Summer Job or Social Experiment
by Manningstar
Summary: Kurt needs a summer job that pays and something that adds to his resume to help him get into the college of his dreams. But he gets a lot more than he bargained for when he ends up building wilderness trails for a summer, meeting Blaine, Sebastian, Mercedes and others along the way. It's a summer of love interests and life lessons and an underlying social experiment.
1. Chapter 1

**AN: This story was written for the Glee Write What You Know fest. It is based on a true story, with the Glee characters in place of the real-life players and the organization name changed to protect the innocent. The second part will be up within a week. **

Kurt swung the axe with a grunt, wiped the sweat from his brow, and questioned his choices for what seemed like the hundredth time. He pulled a bottle from the pack slung low across his hips and pulled the squeeze cap up with his teeth, tilting his head back and squeezing a stream of water into his mouth. It was all he could do to swallow down the too-warm liquid without retching. But he grimaced though it. He needed the water. He was thirsty and dehydrated, his hair sweat-soaked. But most of all, drinking water gave him an excuse to pause in his labor. He gave the slender tree his best death stare, but the tiny notch from his axe didn't grow any larger on its own. With a sigh, Kurt tucked the water bottle back in his pack and picked up the axe once more.

"Hey, look, it's music man," a derisive voice cried out. Kurt turned wearily and saw Dave, a bulky, dark-haired boy about his own age slapping the arm of his equally bulky, dark-skinned companion. "Look at him trying to use an axe like a real man."

"Don't see no stage around here," Dave's companion guffawed. Kurt tried to think of his name and all he could come up with was Adze or Axe. Kurt supposed he should know the names of his crew by now, there were only eight of them plus the two leaders. But it was only the third day, and Kurt really couldn't be bothered to cozy up to two guys who had already made it abundantly clear that they didn't like him and would gladly bully him at the first opportunity.

"His voice is so high, I bet he could just screech out some girly song and that teeny weeny tree would just wither away. What do you think, Az?"

"Yeah, it'd be easier for him that actually swinging that axe worth a damn," Az snickered, giving Dave a high five as they sauntered past.

Kurt stared resolutely at the tree in front of him, the tiny notch in its side mocking him along with his two human tormentors. Lightning quick, at least three possible insults crowded his mind, all of them revolving around the fact that his own superior intelligence, cultural proficiency, and overall maturity insure this experience is simply a stepping stone to future greatness for him, whereas Dave and Az are obviously destined for unending manual labor. But Kurt keeps these thoughts to himself. After all, Dave and Az are both carrying pretty lethal looking hand saws and the crew and it's leaders are spread out far enough in the woods that he's sure they could inflict some serious damage before anyone could crash through the overgrown brush to come to his aid. He thought back to the seemingly endless miles of winding mountain roads and unbroken expanses of trees they had passed when his dad dropped him off at base camp at the beginning of the week. He's pretty sure the nearest emergency room is at least an hour away.

Instead, Kurt focused all of his anger on the small tree. He mentally reviewed the steps Martinez had demonstrated earlier that morning as he spread his legs wider than his shoulders, moved his hands apart on the axe handle, raised it in one fluid motion over his shoulder, and slid his top hand down to meet the bottom hand as the axe plunged down in a satisfying swing and bit nearly all the way through the tree. Kurt smiled as the tree fell smoothly to the forest floor, and moved to the next sapling in the way of the designated path.

With three more trees down, Kurt felt a pang of hunger and reached for his phone to check the time. His pocket was empty and he sighed heavily. He had almost forgotten. No phones. No ipods. No electronic devices of any kind. Those were just some of the rules he had to agree to in order to get this summer job. Mr. Figgins, the camp director, lined up all thirty-two crew members on their first morning and explained that they were here not only to learn trail maintenance, but to experience nature to its fullest. He walked up and down the line of teenagers, collecting phones and other electronic devices for safekeeping in his locked office.

Kurt ignored his growling stomach. He had no choice but to wait for Schuester and Martinez to gather up the group and pass out their sack lunches. In the meantime, he placed the axe on the ground and picked up a small machete from the tool pile, then began hacking at underbrush. He still couldn't see any other members of the crew, but he could hear other axes, machetes, saws, and loppers as well as the murmurs of a few distant voices.

Later that day, sitting on the dirt, back against a tree trunk and legs stretched out in front of him, Kurt ate his sandwich and listened to Mercedes gush excitedly about the latest Beyonce single. Kurt smiled and agreed to sing it with her later that night, after they had a chance to shower and were given some free time before lights out at base camp.

Kurt was so grateful that Mercedes was in his crew. They had hit it off immediately at the orientation meeting on the very first day when both of them rolled their eyes at the final activity in a series of ridiculous ice-breakers. The two hadn't yet spoken, but when they were given a choice of partners for the last activity, Mercedes made a bee-line for Kurt from across the room. They ignored the guidelines of the activity and just chatted casually, soon learning that they shared both an interest in fashion and a love of music. When Kurt asked, Mercedes said there wasn't a glee club at her school just outside Chicago, but she did sing in the school's chorus as well as at her church. "Next year I want to start a band," she confessed. "Something R&amp;B, probably. I want to be on the radio someday."

"A band is a great idea," Kurt agreed. "I have my sights set on musical theater, though, so my goal for the coming year is to convince the principal that McKinley High needs to have a play. Rachel and I are in the Glee club, and we managed to drag my step-brother into it and some of his friends. But it's a pretty small group. And not very popular. I don't think we'll ever attract enough members to compete."

"Rachel?" Mercedes asked. "Is she the tiny girl with the long dark hair and the high and mighty attitude?"

Kurt nodded. "The very one."

"I figured you must know each other, what with all the sparks flying when you first walked into the room earlier today," Mercedes said. "What's the deal with you two, anyway? I would have been thrilled to already know someone when I got here, even if we weren't the best of friends."

Kurt had been shocked to see Rachel sitting primly, legs crossed at the knee, on one of the drooping sofas in the drab common room that first afternoon he walked in with his bag still slung over his shoulder, looking for the camp director to give him a cabin assignment so he could settle in. His mouth dropped open as he sucked in a shocked gasp. Rachel's eyes grew wide and she shouted, "Traitor!" at the same time Kurt yelled, "Liar!"

Kurt took a deep breath in an effort to contain his emotions. He was livid – absolutely infuriated – with Rachel, but he didn't want to blow a chance at friendship with Mercedes by raging like a maniac during their very first conversation. He buried his head in his hands and started speaking, but lifted his head again when Mercedes pawed at his arm and protested that she couldn't understand his mumbling. "Are you sure you want to hear this? It's a long story."

"Do you see a T.V. here?" she asked, with a perfunctory wave around the sparse room.

"Good point," Kurt said. "Still, I'll give you the abridged version." He briefly outlined their history first as rivals competing for singing parts and romantic interests, then as colleagues with a respect for each other's talent, and finally as tentative friends. "After all, neither one of us are particularly popular, so we don't have a lot of other options for friendships. And we share so many interests. She annoys the hell out of me sometimes, but I also love her. Most of the time. Not right now, though."

After a pause he added, "I'm gay, by the way, if you hadn't already figured that out. " Mercedes shrugged and smiled. Kurt continued to explain that both he and Rachel are interested in careers in musical theater. "We have the same dream college – New York Academy for the Dramatic Arts. It's incredibly exclusive. It only takes 20 students a year and it's rare they take two from the same high school. We both wanted to do whatever we could to strengthen our chances of getting in – "

"Can I interrupt you for a second, Kurt?"

"Sure."

"What in the hell are two musical theater geeks doing at a camp out in the frickin' mountains building trails as a summer job? Wouldn't it be better to – I don't know – work at a theater or something?"

Kurt sighed. "Yeah, you'd think so. I really tried to get a theater job. I tried every community theater and theater-related organization within a two-hour drive of Lima, Ohio. I auditioned to sing at theme parks. I even applied for a singing waiter job. But we don't get out of school until the middle of June, and all those jobs were already snatched up by the college kids who've been out since the beginning of May."

"But why apply to work for the Teen Environmental League? There sure ain't no stage here." Mercedes said, her furrowed brow matching her perplexed tone.

"Yeah, the jocks on our crew keep reminding me of that," Kurt said, rolling his eyes. "There is a reason, though. I did my research on NYADA. The dean of admissions, a Madame Carmen Tibideaux, is a big supporter of the environment. She gives a lot of money to the Sierra Club and she organizes groups of students to perform each year at the Hudson Riverkeeper's annual fundraiser. And there are pictures of her hiking, canoeing, and fishing all over the NYADA blogs. So I figured that having something outdoorsy and environmental on my resume would help me have a better chance of getting in. As long as I can get some theater stuff on that resume, too."

"So you and Rachel decided to apply together?" Mercedes asked.

"Not exactly," Kurt said. "Rachel had managed to talk her way into a singing job at a local coffee shop. I told her I was going to try to find an environmental internship, but they were as scarce as the theater jobs. At least if I wanted to get paid. And I needed the money. But then I saw this job advertised on Craigslist and decided to go for it. I told Rachel about it, but she urged me not to apply. She insisted that Madame Tibideaux didn't like the Teen Environmental League – that they were rivals to her beloved Sierra Club and that my plan would backfire on me. And I came so close to believing her, too. But I figured it wouldn't hurt to apply and when this was the only place I was accepted, I decided to give it a shot." Kurt clenched his fists and pursed his lips together for a moment before continuing in a strangled voice. "I couldn't believe it when I walked in and saw her here. I did all that research, all that work –learning about Madame Tibideaux's interests and discovering that this job existed. And she was going to just take that from me, and lie to me. I guess her plan all along was to convince me not to go so she could get the job herself and make her college application more appealing than mine. I just – I can't believe her." He looked across the room at Rachel, who was talking animatedly with a small Asian girl with glasses. "I thought we were friends."

Mercedes took Kurt's hand in both of hers. "I'll be your friend, Kurt. I promise I won't ever hurt you like that."

"Thanks, Mercedes." Kurt smiled. "I have a feeling that friendships are going to be really important in this place."

The night after their fourth full day of trail blazing, freshly showered and sore muscles slightly soothed by the hot water, Kurt and Mercedes stood out under the stars on a paved area in the neutral ground between the girls and the boys cabins and sang a slowed down version of How Will I Know in harmony. They started out softly, both in an effort to not disturb anyone who already might be in their beds for the night and also as a way to preserve a rare moment of time alone. Not only was this Kurt's first experience spending weeks away from home, it was also his first experience with communal life. He worked in a group, ate in the group cafeteria at the same time as the entire group, shared a group bathroom with all of the boys at the camp and shared a cabin with a roommate. He never realized how much he craved moments alone – or even moments shared with one good friend – until almost all of them had been stripped away.

Kurt was so starved for time apart from the group that these few minutes singing under the stars with Mercedes heightened his senses. He felt giddy, almost high, with the freedom of it. He kept singing louder and Mercedes matched his swelling voice with hers, until someone yelled at them to knock it off and they dissolved into giggles, doubled over and holding on to each other to keep from tumbling to the ground.

"Kurt, my man!" A voice barked out as a heavy palm clapped Kurt's shoulder with a sharp sting, causing Kurt to jump. He turned his head with a jerk and startled a second time at the proximity of the narrow, dark eyes of his roommate, Glen.

Glen was tall and lean and wore some variation of the same outfit every day: low slung jeans and tight-fitting tank top, his biceps textured, like a tightly wound braid of ropes. The day Kurt first moved his belongings into the cabin, Glen was already there, coiled on the opposite bed like a jaguar stalking prey. Kurt had smiled, waved awkwardly, introduced himself, and stuck out a hand to shake. Glen merely cocked his head and stared at him hungrily, never uttering a word. Kurt had felt chills run up and down his spine. After four days of sharing a cabin, these were the first words Glen had spoken to Kurt.

"Hey," Kurt said nervously, peering up at Glen's steely, intimidating glare.

Glen draped an arm over Kurt's shoulders and pushed himself between Kurt and Mercedes. "Aren't you going to introduce us?" he asked, grinning at Mercedes and running his eyes up and down her body.

"Um, sure," Kurt said uncertainly, taking a step back to regain some personal space. "Glen, this is Mercedes. We're on the same crew. And Mercedes, this is my roommate Glen."

Glen's grin grew wider, and he slung his other arm over Mercedes' shoulder. "Mercedes, huh? You would look perfect leaned up against a luxury car." Glen's grin grew wider and he stooped down to bring his face closer to hers.

Mercedes fixed him with a glare and stepped out from under his arm. "It was nice meeting you, but if you'll excuse us – "

"Aw, come on, baby," Glen purred smoothly. "That little pansy boy can't give you what you need."

Mercedes cocked her head at him and frowned. "You don't know what you're talking about." She stepped close to Kurt and linked arms with him. "Now please shut your disrespectful mouth and leave us alone."

"Hey, I thought you were gay," Glen growled at Kurt. "That's why I've got to keep you in line. Make sure you're not getting any ideas about sharing that cabin with me." Kurt held his head high and tried to convey all of his disdain for his roommate with a single look. But he couldn't stop himself from flinching when Glen lunged at him, pulling back at the last minute with a laugh. "I don't buy it that you and Mercedes here need alone time. I think she should be spending some alone time with me. So what, now you want me to believe you're not into guys?"

"I do like guys, not that it's any of your business," Kurt said tightly.

Mercedes snaked her arm around Kurt's waist and squeezed him to her side. Glaring at Glen she spat out, "He likes guys _and_ girls. Haven't you ever heard of bisexual before?"

Kurt squelched his surprise and schooled his face into a neutral expression.

"So you two are really – " Glen trailed off, glancing between them and making some abstract, yet vaguely lewd, hand gestures.

"Yes, we're together. For several days now," Kurt said confidently, wrapping his arm around Mercedes' shoulder and pulling her close. "So back off."

"To each his own, I guess," Glen said, walking backwards a few steps and shaking his head before heading back toward the boy's cabins.

Kurt and Mercedes held their breath for a moment, but as soon as their eyes met, they erupted into giggles. "That guy is such a creep," Mercedes exclaimed. "Thanks for helping me get rid of him. I hope you don't mind that I pretended to be with you like that."

"It's not a problem," Kurt said. "He is a creep, though. It really sucks to room with him. You know, that's the first time he's ever actually spoken to me. He keeps trying to intimidate me with the silent treatment. And it was working pretty well."

"Oh Kurt, I'm sorry. That sounds awful," Mercedes said.

"Yeah, well maybe it'll be better now. I actually went to Figgins after the first night and asked if I could switch cabins."

"What did he say?"

Kurt sighed. "He said no – said it would build character for me to have a challenging roommate. He also said he hoped I would be a good influence on Glen. And then he said the weirdest thing. About this job – this place – being a social experiment." Kurt leaned in conspiratorially and whispered, "Did you know that half the people here are juvenile delinquents?"

"I'm not surprised," said Mercedes. "I how some of these slackers got into this program. I mean, the application was really challenging. It was almost as tough as trying to get into college. I really expected everyone here to be either a genius or some kind of ultra-environmentalist."

Kurt laughed. "Yeah, me too. But you know, I asked Puck what his essay was about when we were in line for dinner yesterday. He said he didn't write an essay. His probation officer said he could either come here or go back to juvie."

"Damn," Mercedes breathed. "You and I had to write essays and work our butts off to get this job. That's so unfair. And how is it okay for us to have to work with kids who just barely escaped being in juvie?"

"I agree," Kurt said. "The whole idea of this being a social experiment really scares me. Figgins said it wasn't just about mixing over-achievers with 'troubled kids', as he put it. He also carefully selected applicants and recruited additional crew members to make sure there was a completely diverse blend of kids – urban and rural, poor and rich, straight and gay, conservative and liberal. And we're all from different parts of the country. I don't really understand it, though. Does he think the healing power of nature can help us forget all of our differences and get along perfectly or something?"

Mercedes looked around the empty paved area suspiciously, then leaned in close and whispered, "Maybe he doesn't want us to get along. What if the experiment is to see how long it takes before we crack and start beating each other to death with our hand tools?"

Kurt smiled indulgently. "As much as I love a good conspiracy theory, I don't think that's what he's going for. Especially since it would bring the wrath of dozens of angry parents directly onto his greasy head."

"You're probably right," she conceded. "But if I ever wanted to get a group of teenagers to crack, I'd do exactly what they're doing here. Force them to do hard labor in the wretched heat and humidity, deprive them of their music and anything fun, and put a bunch of saws and axes and rakes in their hands."

"I know, it sucks," Kurt said. "At least we have the movies to look forward to tomorrow."

Mercedes nodded. Figgins and the crew leaders had been talking all week about bringing the group to watch a movie at the tiny theater in town. Every time someone complained or was slow to complete a work task or grumbled about having dish duty after a meal, the adults in charge reminded them that their celluloid reward would only happen if everyone continued to complete each chore with minimal complaint.

Every crew member was excited. By Thursday the chatter was a constant, frenetic buzz. They discussed options endlessly, with lots of trash talk. A few teens almost came to blows until they realized that two of the four films were playing at the same time and they could split the group between the romantic comedy and the action adventure classic.

Kurt and Mercedes hugged and parted ways for the night, not wanting to jeopardize the movie by getting caught outside after lights out.

As Kurt washed his face, brushed his teeth, and did his best to carry out at least some of his regular skin care regimen, he silently reviewed the pros and cons of the two movie choices. Having been deprived of any form of electronic entertainment for so long, the promise of a trip to the movies had taken on almost mythical proportions. Kurt wanted to choose the right movie to maximize his enjoyment. As he shifted fruitlessly on the narrow, lumpy bed, he could almost taste the buttery popcorn melt into his mouth as he imagined the delightful shock of cold air blowing through the vents in the theater For the first time since arriving at the camp, Kurt fell asleep with a smile curling his lips.

Friday night arrived and the excitement had risen to a fevered pitch. Breakfast, roll call, breaks, even work time were filled with chatter about actors and actresses, soundtracks, and favorite films. After dinner, the eager campers began to line up on the pavement in front of the vans, some pulling on the handles of the locked doors in vain.

Friday night was the first time Kurt started to think that maybe Mercedes was right in her conspiracy theory.

Just as the sun was slipping below the tops of the mountains, Crew Leader Sylvester marched out in front of the assembled teens, held a bull horn to her lips and bellowed, "Figgins has asked me to announce that there will be no trip to the movies tonight. Better luck next time."

The stunned silence was quickly replaced by a deafening wave of protests. A few fights broke out. Kurt was amazed that the majority of the group made it to the next day unscathed.

Groups of disgruntled crew members stumbled about all weekend, their complaints forming a constant buzz, like a mass of disturbed hornets hovering, eager for a provocation to provide an excuse to swarm.

On Monday, Mercedes sits heavily on the pavement next to Kurt, waiting for roll call. "I'm tired. It's hot. I don't want to work," she moaned. "It's not fair. We didn't even get to go to the movies like they promised."

Santana stretched out across from them, resting her head on Brittany's shoulder. "I never thought the day would come that I would agree with Ms. Entitled Lazy-pants over here, but it has."

"Preach," said Artie, spinning a tight circle in his wheelchair and parking on the other side of Brittany. "I am just full of rage."

"Yeah, fuck this shit," Puck muttered, kicking at the ground. "If they can't deliver on their promise, why should we deliver with our sweat? Fucking heartless slave-drivers, all of them, expecting us to work in this heat."

"Well, we are getting paid," Brittany said flatly, but her words were nearly lost in the growing cacophony of angry shouts and grumbles spreading across the lot.

The crew leaders had gathered by the tool shed, watching the angry mass of bodies impassively as they waited for Figgins to emerge to conduct the roll call.

"We demand to be treated with respect," the Asian girl with long, black hair yelled, her words washing over the general din as she stamped her foot forcefully.

"I have an idea," Kurt shouted, rushing to explain it to those immediately adjacent to him who could hear. "I need your help to spread the word. Quick, before Figgins gets here."

By the time Figgins ambled across the lot, all of the crew members were sitting, cross-legged on the ground. "Silence children, silence," Figgins said loudly and the few murmurs faded away. "I will now take roll call. Please say 'here' when I call your name. Artie Abrams?"

The only sound in response was the chirping of a blue jay in a nearby pine tree.

"Artie Abrams?" Figgins squinted into the group of teenagers sitting on the pavement, eyes focusing on Artie. "Isn't Artie Abrams the plucky wheelchair kid who shows amazing aptitude with a pair of loppers? I see you sitting there. If you refuse to work, we'll dock your pay for the day." Figgins shuffled the sheaf of papers clutched between his hands nervously. "Tina Cohen-Chang?" Again, silence. "Tina, get up. All of you, stand up. It is time to work."

Kurt looked up and down the rows of silent, sitting campers and beamed proudly. "Mr. Figgins, if I may?" he asked politely, raising his hand. Without waiting for a response, Kurt rose and continued. "This is an official protest – a sit-in. We are refusing to work because we feel it is unfair that you promised us a trip to the movies and then revoked it with no explanation. We are tired, we are hungry, we are bored, and we work hard. The idea of getting to see a movie was what got most of us through the heat and the boredom to do our jobs and to do them well. Taking that away is unfair. We will sit here and refuse to work until we have an explanation."

"Hell, I ain't getting up until we have a guarantee we're going to the movies," Santana yelled.

Kurt would later remember the conflict lasting much longer, but in reality, it only took a few minutes before Figgins, scuffing his heels against the pavement sheepishly, apologized for cancelling the movie trip and promised to take them that very night.

Cheap buttered popcorn had never tasted so good.

Kurt was perched on the sofa, legs crossed, trying and failing to lose himself in Gulliver's Travels, one of the few books on the dusty shelves in the common room, when Rachel approached him with a sheepish expression.

"Kurt, may I speak with you for a moment?" she asked.

Kurt sighed. "What do you want, Rachel?"

Rachel's eyes grew misty and Kurt dropped his gaze to the floor. He knew she wanted forgiveness and if he didn't want to give in too easily, avoiding her large, wet eyes was crucial. "I want to apologize, Kurt," she said. "What I did was so wrong."

"You're right about that," Kurt said bitterly. "I know that when I told you about this idea, I thought you already had summer plans that would help you with your application for NYADA. I didn't think you needed or wanted this. But I wouldn't have been angry with you for applying to this program if you were just honest with me. I mean, I can't believe you tried to convince me not to go and all the while you were applying to it behind my back."

Rachel dropped lightly onto the couch beside him. "I know. I'm so sorry," she said, looking into his eyes pleadingly. "Please believe me, I realize how completely horrible I was and I regret it every day. When I didn't get a singing job I just panicked and I was afraid. I wanted to have something on my resume that distinguished me from other applicants - including you. But I realize now that was so selfish and stupid. Really, we should support each other and help each other because the best scenario is that we both get into NYADA and go to New York together."

Kurt opened his mouth to speak, but Rachel held up her hand and continued. "And to prove that I have changed my ways, I used my one phone call allowed for the week to call Shelby and asked her to write a letter of recommendation for you." Rachel bounced up and down on her toes, grinning widely, her voice getting higher and higher and faster until she was practically squeaking with excitement. "She said yes! As soon as we get home, she wants to meet with you so she can get to know you better and represent you in the best light. And then you and I are going to sing duets and post them to Youtube and we can include that in our application, too."

Kurt smiled and opened his arms wide, wrapping them around Rachel as she fell into them. "Yes, Rachel. I forgive you. And thank you for calling Shelby for me." He drew back so he could look into her eyes, his fingers still laced together at her back. "You really can be a good friend, when you're not stabbing me in the back. Think you can manage to not do that again?"

"Never again," Rachel swore solemnly. "And as a further gesture of goodwill," she pulled out of his embrace, grabbed his hand, and dragged him toward the other side of the room where a small group was playing cards, "I want to introduce you to some of my crew members.

Our crews have all been really self-segregated and it's silly. You and I can unite them because of our prior friendship. There are a few in my crew who like to sing. Although none of them are as good as I am." After a pause she adds, "I mean, as we are."

Rachel introduced Kurt to Sam, a tall blond boy who immediately started speaking in a strange voice in what sounded like another language. His shoulders sagged when he noted Kurt's blank look. "I keep thinking there's going to be somebody here who appreciates a good science fiction character impression."

"Sorry," Kurt said genuinely, shaking Sam's hand. "But I do sing. Rachel said you do as well?"

"Oh, cool. Yeah, if they won't let us listen to music we can at least make some of our own, right?" said Sam.

Kurt nodded in agreement and turned to shake hands with Tina, an Asian girl with long black hair and a sunny smile. "Hey, Kurt. Rachel said the two of you go to the same school?"

"That's right," said Kurt, "McKinley High in Lima, Ohio."

"Ohio?" Tina said. "That's where Blaine is from. I don't really know the geography there. I'm from New Jersey. Is Lima close to your school, Blaine?" Tina asked the boy beside her.

"Yes, it's less than an hour from Dalton," Blaine said. Turning to Rachel he added, "I wonder if our show choirs will ever meet up in competition. They tend to rotate which local schools are grouped together for sectionals each year."

"You probably won't see us in competition anytime soon," Rachel said. "Kurt and Finn and I are really the only members of our glee club. We get a few others drifting in and out sometimes, but I don't think we'll ever have enough members to compete. We don't even really have a faculty advisor."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Blaine said. "But there is definitely more to show choir than just the competitions. The Warblers – that's the name of our show choir – is a pretty big group. But it can be hard as an a capella group in school uniforms to compete with all the show choirs with musical backup and fancy costumes. When our competition season is over, we perform at nursing homes and shopping malls. Your club should try it. I can probably help you line up some gigs."

"That's a great idea," Tina said dreamily, smiling wide and leaning forward with her chin in her hands. "Blaine always has the best ideas."

Rachel announced that she was going to take a shower. She then leaned toward Kurt, standing on her tip-toes and cupping his ear with her hand. Kurt was prepared for a whisper, but jumped a bit when she stage-whispered, loud enough for all of them to hear, "You should spend some time alone with Blaine. He's also gay."

Kurt stood frozen in place, a burning blush painting his cheeks scarlet as Rachel skipped away with a wave, seemingly oblivious to volume of her supposed whisper. Sam cleared his throat and mumbled that he was going to see if he could charm one of the cooks to let him have an afternoon snack. Tina continued smiling at Blaine until Sam called to her awkwardly from across the room. She scowled in his direction and said goodbye to Kurt and Blaine, then trotted after him.

Kurt held a hand over his eyes to block Blaine from his vision and said, "Oh my God. I'm so embarrassed." Suddenly a horrifying thought struck him and he lowered his hand slowly. "Please tell me that she didn't just out you?" He lifted his eyes to meet Blaine's gaze with trepidation. He expected to see embarrassment, anger or surprise. But instead, Blaine's expression is amused.

"No, not at all," Blaine said, a hint of a smile dancing around his eyes. "I am out and proud. It's not a problem."

"Still, this is pretty awkward, though," Kurt said, shifting his weight from foot to foot.

Blaine reached out his hand and pressed his fingertips gently to Kurt's arm, Kurt felt his entire world narrow to the slight heat on his arm from those fingertips and he inhaled sharply. "No," Blaine said. "It doesn't have to be. We both live in Ohio, we're both openly gay, we sing, we're here at the Youth Environmental League camp. We obviously have a lot in common. We can be friends, right?"

Blaine pulled his hand back, releasing Kurt's arm from his touch. Kurt let out the breath he hadn't realized he was still holding and nodded with a small smile. "Why don't you have a seat?" Blaine asked, indicating the now empty chair to his right. Kurt pulled the chair out and sat down. "I really admire your leadership skills at the sit-in," Blaine continued.

"Thanks," Kurt said, willing his resurgent blush away.

At dinner that night, Kurt and Mercedes sat with Rachel, Sam, Tina, and Blaine and they agreed to practice some five part harmony before lights out.

Each day, the air seemed more oppressive. Kurt felt like he was breathing through hot, wet velvet. The air was so humid that his body remained sweat slick all day, but there was never a breeze to provide relief. The work was monotonous and exhausting. Kurt had been on pick-axe duty for days, fruitlessly stabbing at the packed clay soil in an effort to break its stubborn bonds for the shovel team. Their crew leaders, Schuester and Martinez, said the ultimate goal was an even, unobstructed, packed gravel trail snaking through the mountainside. But it was hard for Kurt to feel enthusiastic about that vision. All he could think about was those lucky bastards who got to walk along a nice, even, easy trail. Those jerks who would never give a thought to the labor that went into making their hike so pleasant. _Just think about how great your biceps are going to look by the end of the summer, _Kurt told himself whenever he thought he couldn't push his shaking arms over his head for another swing at the unyielding earth.

Another daily occurrence was that crew leader Martinez spoke dreamily about the upcoming backcountry hike. "It's the ultimate wilderness experience," he said during the brief lunch break. Theirs would be the first of the three work crews to take the week-long trip. Carrying everything they needed to work, eat, and sleep, they would hike up a mountain and set up camp.

"It's so beautiful on top of the mountain," Schuester added. "The view is amazing."

The more he heard about the upcoming trip, the more Kurt looked forward to it. He hoped that they would climb high enough to reach cooler temperatures. He knew they would still have to work that week, but they would be maintaining existing trails by cutting down intrusive branches with loppers and hand saws. Compared to hacking a brand new trail through the wilderness as they had been doing, trail maintenance sounded positively relaxing. And although he wouldn't admit this to Mercedes, who complained bitterly about the looming week away from bathrooms, showers, and ready-to-eat food, Kurt was curious to learn how to camp in the wilderness. Martinez had explained that he and Schuester would help everyone pack appropriately for the trip and would show the crew how to set up a base camp, dig trenches for a toilet, purify their drinking water, and create delicious meals from lightweight, calorie-dense foods.

In fact, Kurt got more and more excited about the backcountry trip with each passing day. He was excited for anything to break up the monotony of trail blazing in the humid heat. But also, this grueling summer job had taught Kurt that while he still preferred the speed and excitement of a big city, he also greatly enjoyed the peacefulness of the woods.

But most of all, Martinez's enthusiasm for backcountry hiking was contagious. It probably didn't hurt that Kurt had a bit of a crush on him. Most of the crew leaders were only a few years older than the team of teenagers they led. And Martinez had a raw charisma and a rugged, handsome, leading-man look that reminded Kurt of several of his celebrity crushes. And crushing on Martinez was safe. It was like admiring the looks of a teacher or a movie star or anyone else that you were allowed to stare at periodically and admire, but with whom you had no possibility of ever needing to negotiate the murky waters of dating. The crew leaders might be close to the rest of the workers in age, but they thought of themselves as worlds apart. They had their own cabins and their own romances. And Kurt knew the crew leaders thought of their crew members as kids. He had overheard Scheuster talking about it with a willowy blond crew leader named Holly Holiday.

On Sundays there was a large block of unscheduled free time. Kurt wandered about the base camp, looking for his group of friends. He found Blaine, stretched out across a picnic table, eyes closed, soaking up the sun.

"That's terrible for your skin," Kurt admonished. "You could get cancer. Or worse, wrinkles."

Blaine smiled and sat up, shading his eyes with a hand at his brow before cracking one eye open. "Hey, Kurt. What are you planning to do with your free time today? I take it you won't want to join me in sunbathing?"

"Absolutely not," Kurt said. "I don't even know how you can stand it. It's so ridiculously hot even in the shade."

"Yeah, I am starting to sweat a bit," Blaine said, hopping off the table and joining Kurt in a patch of shade from a tall oak tree next to the picnic area. "How about a walk in the woods? Maybe we can find a cool stream to stick our toes in."

"That sounds great, actually," Kurt said. "I hope we're able to keep track of the time. I have a feeling that Figgins won't be happy if we're late for dinner. But I'm totally lost without my phone. Sometimes I feel like we're living in the twilight zone when I don't even know what time it is anymore."

"Don't worry," Blaine said, tapping the watch on his wrist. "I have us covered. Let's go."

They wandered the edge of the camp until they found a promising trail and headed off into the dense woods. Kurt breathed deeply, filling his lungs with the pine-tinged air. The path was narrow and winding, thick with tree roots and scattered rocks. Kurt and Blaine walked single file and remained mostly quiet, focusing on the sound of leaves crunching beneath their feet and the occasional hammering of a woodpecker. After a few minutes, Blaine halted suddenly and Kurt almost crashed into his outstretched arm.

"Look," Blaine whispered, pointing ahead of them and to the left, where three deer stood at attention, tilting their ears slowly, straining to pick up a sound. After a few moments watching the animals, Blaine and Kurt stepped forward again, and the deer tensed and turned, bounding out of sight into the woods.

Soon after that, the path crossed a bubbling brook. Just downstream of the path, a thick tree trunk lay across the bank. The two boys walked out on the trunk, shedding their shoes and socks to dangle their feet into the cool, clear water.

"I'm glad you rescued me from sitting in the sun," Blaine said, kicking his feet back and forth in the water. "This is much better."

"You know, you've never told me why you took this job," Kurt said.

"I needed a summer job and I had already done the whole singing at theme parks thing. So I wanted to try something different. They had this listed at the career center at school and I love the outdoors, so I thought I'd try it. And it's nice to get away from home for a few months."

"You don't board at Dalton?"

"No, it's strictly a day school. So yes, I'm stuck at home for the whole year," Blaine said lightly.

Kurt cautiously asked, "Do you not get along with your family?"

"No, it's not that," Blaine said. "I'm not really close with my brother, but he's a lot older than I am. He hasn't lived at home for years. I get along okay with my parents, too. But you know how it is. Sometimes it's nice to get away from all the strict rules and discipline."

"Well, I can't say you escaped that by coming here," Kurt said.

Blaine nodded in agreement. "I definitely need to do a better job next time of picking something with a bit more freedom. What about you? Are you enjoying being away from home?"

"Not really," Kurt said. "I really miss my dad. On the surface, we seem like such different people, but we are really close. My mom died when I was young, so the two of us only have each other."

"I'm so sorry," Blaine said.

Kurt waved the comment away dismissively. "It's okay. I mean, I miss her too, but it was a long time ago. I don't really think about it much anymore. Now it's just me and my dad."

"Is your dad cool about you being gay?" Blaine asked.

"Yeah, you can say that," Kurt said, looking into the distance and smiling. "I was so afraid to tell him. I thought he would kick me out or something. But it turns out my closet was a lot more transparent than I realized. He said he had known for a long time and he loved me just the same. It took a little time for him to get used to the idea, but now he even asks me if there are any guys I have my eye on."

"And do you?" Blaine asked, looking searchingly into Kurt's eyes. Kurt noticed for the first time that Blaine's eyes were a warm, golden hazel. He had thought they were brown. He thought about Blaine's kind eyes, his rich laugh, his smooth olive skin, and the electric jolt of his fingertips whenever he touched Kurt's arm or his knee to emphasize a point while they talked. He and Blaine had so much in common and Kurt could easily see himself falling for his new friend. But he didn't want to jeopardize his friendship with the first openly gay boy he had met. And more than that, he really didn't want to be rejected. He had no idea how Blaine might feel about him. And surely he had other options. He went to a private school for boys, after all.

"Kurt?"

"Oh," Kurt said, startled back into the present with the realization that he had spent the past several minutes staring into Blaine's eyes without answering his question. "No. Not really. Do you?"

"Maybe," Blaine said enigmatically, dipping his foot into the water and drawing it back up to sit cross-legged on the tree trunk.

"Someone at school?" Kurt asked. "I mean, since we're the only two gay guys here – that we know of."

Blaine turned his head away and huffed out an embarrassed laugh. "Right, of course." After a moment he added, "By the way, we're not the only gay guys here. There's at least one more that I know of. He's not on either of our crews. His name is Sebastian. Have you met him?"

"No, I don't think so," said Kurt. "What does he look like?"

"He's tall and has light brown hair that he wears swept up off his forehead. Green eyes."

'Oh yeah, I think I've seen him around," Kurt said. "What makes you think he's gay?"

"Well, for starters he was hitting on me," Blaine said.

"Oh my God, really?" Kurt exclaimed. "Are you – um- interested?"

Blaine laughed. "Not really. He's good looking and it was flattering, but he's a little – aggressive. I don't want to do anything to jeopardize the job. They are pretty strict about the rules. Even if they focus almost exclusively on heterosexual activities, I'm pretty sure that sex of any kind would get us kicked out."

"I suppose you're right," Kurt said. "Shall we walk some more?"

After a few more minutes wandering in the woods, they headed back to base camp with plenty of time to spare for dinner. Blaine continued toward the cabins to take a shower and Kurt strolled into the common room to look for Mercedes. He could hear the murmurs of laughter and conversation drifting through the walls. When he opened the door, however, more than a dozen heads swiveled in his direction and all noise stopped. The silence echoed in Kurt's ears.

Kurt straightened his posture and tried to ignore the stares and hushed whispers as he entered the room. He wasn't sure what he had done to deserve this treatment here, but he was used to it at school, so after just a moment of hesitation, he began to walk further into the room. He held his head high and looked down his nose at the other workers, imagining them all laboring in the massive gardens of his future estate.

As he walked past Santana and Brittany, Santana held up a hand for a high five. "Wow, Hummel. I didn't think you had it in you."

Kurt stared at her in silence, unable to fathom what she might be talking about. She left her hand raised in the air for a moment, then shrugged and dropped it back down, opening the magazine in her lap once more. "Whatever," she said dismissively.

Mercedes rushed up to him and asked, "Where were you?"

"Blaine and I took a walk in the woods. Why?" Kurt asked, looking around the room. The chatter had started slowly up again, but most eyes were still on him.

Brittany tapped Santana's arm excitedly. "We should try it in the woods!"

"No, Brittany," Santana said in a bored drawl. "We're roommates. That means we don't have to go in the woods. Besides, I have no interest in getting twigs and bugs in my hair."

"What is going on. What are they talking about?

"Figgins called a mandatory group meeting during our break time," Mercedes explained. "It was an hour ago. He did a roll call – "

"And Blaine and I weren't here," Kurt said, his face suddenly ashen. "Oh my God. I have to sit down. I feel sick."

"I think you should go let Figgins know that you're back," Mercedes said. "If you let him know right away, maybe he'll go easy on you."

"This is ridiculous," Kurt sighed. "What the hell was so important that Figgins had to cut into one of our rare longer blocks of free time with another meeting?"

"It was just something about the upcoming backcountry trips. Nothing important," Mercedes said.

"Kurt, there you are!" Rachel yelped as she rushed toward him from the door to the common room. "I've been all over base camp trying to find you. Are you okay?"

"Yes, I'm fine, Rachel," Kurt said exasperatedly. "I just went for a walk with Blaine."

Puck, who was walking past, turned and said loudly, making air quotes with his fingers, "Oh, the two gay kids 'went for a walk'. Is that what we're calling it these days?"

"Oh God," Kurt moaned into his hands. Loudly, he announced to the kids lounging throughout the common room, "We just went for a walk. And talked. Nothing else happened. I'm going to go find Figgins now and tell him the same thing."


	2. Chapter 2

Kurt didn't eat dinner that night. His stomach roiling, he spent most of the mealtime with his head buried between his arms at the table, while Mercedes and Rachel patted his back and told him everything would be okay.

"I don't even know why I wanted to go on that backcountry trip so badly," Kurt moaned, lifting his head a few inches off his arms so they could hear him. "I've never been even remotely outdoorsy."

"It's just like what happened with the movies," Rachel said.

Tina added, "Figgins has some kind of sick gift for dangling something in front of us until we are practically salivating for it, then yanking it away at the last minute."

"It's so unfair," Mercedes agreed.

"And Blaine and I didn't even do anything wrong," Kurt grumbled, ignoring the knowing look Tina gave Mercedes.

"Well, I suppose we could have told someone where we were going," Blaine said. "Figgins did have a point about that."

"Don't take his side," Kurt groaned. "At least you have two weeks to demonstrate good behavior before your crew goes on it's backcountry hike. You don't have to spend all night pleading your case in writing about why they should let you go. I have to put together this whole essay about my responsibility," he complained.

"I'm sorry?" Blaine said uncertainly.

Kurt shook his head. "No, don't be. I'm glad you have a chance at your backcountry hike. I'm just upset because Schuester and Martinez keep talking it up." He sighed, looking into the eyes of first one friend and then another. "It was the only thing that was keeping me going in this place, besides getting to spend our few free minutes a day with you guys. I just don't know how I'm supposed to convince Figgins to let me go."

"Aren't you glad he's giving you an option, though?" Tina asked. "Since your crew is supposed to leave in a few days. It doesn't give you much time to show good behavior. He could have just said you can't go at all…" Tina's words trailed off at Kurt's glare.

"Yes, it's peachy," Kurt said, rolling his eyes. "Well, I guess I better get started." Kurt walked toward the door. He heard Rachel and Blaine discussing whether or not singing a song would get Kurt back into Figgins' good graces. Kurt just shook his head and hurried toward his cabin to grab his notebook and a pen.

The next morning, yawning profusely, Kurt handed Figgins twenty single-spaced, hand-written pages extolling his innocence, responsibility, and leadership. He also waxed passionately about his newfound love of nature and his longing to learn backcountry survival skills.

After an agonizingly slow workday, punctuated by taunts from Dave and Azimio, who made kissing sounds and lewd gestures every time they passed him, Kurt was called in to speak with Figgins.

"I am very disappointed in you, Mr. Hummel," Figgins said in clipped tones. "I was hoping that you would set a good example for all these sex-crazed teens. And then you turned out to be one of them."

"But that's not true," Kurt said. "All I did was take a walk in the woods with a friend."

"I am not up on all the latest teen lingo," Figgins said. "But even I know that 'take a walk in the woods' is a slang for the sexy times."

Kurt closed his eyes and took a breath. "That's just something the kids here are saying because they don't believe me and Blaine. But I swear to you, we just talked. There wasn't any kind of sexy anything." Kurt didn't want to apologize, but he knew that sometimes acting contrite could go a long way with an adult in authority. So he ignored his rage at the injustice of the situation and continued. "I understand now that we should have let someone know where we were going. I know that you are concerned about our safety and that letting someone know we were going for a walk would have been the responsible thing to do. I promise I will never go off base camp without permission again. But to be fair, Blaine and I didn't know you were going to call a meeting. We were being responsible because we knew how long our free period was and we were careful to keep track of the time and to come back well before that free period ended. I really hope you've considered what I wrote to you."

"Yes, you were very eloquent. And long-winded." Figgins leaned back in his chair. "I am going to let you go on the backcountry hike. But I want you to know that the crew leaders and I are all watching you very closely. If there are any more sexual infractions, you will be kicked out."

Kurt bit his tongue to keep himself from protesting that there never were any sexual infractions in the first place. Instead he nodded and smiled and said, "Thank you so much! You won't regret it." He nearly skipped out of the office. He immediately ran toward Blaine's cabin to let him know the good news.

Typically, after a full day of hot and humid weather and grueling and boring work, Kurt could barely muster the energy for a card game or a quick song with his friends before collapsing into bed. But that night, Kurt was full of energy, riding an elated high from Figgins granting him permission to go on the backcountry hike. He felt like he would burst unless he could release that energy, so he was grateful that Rachel somehow convinced crew leader Schuester to leave his keys in his car with the radio cranked up.

All thirty-two crew members, starved for electronic entertainment of any kind, piled onto the pavement next to the car to listen to the sweet strains of pop music. Puck reached into the car and spun the radio dials until he found a song with a strong thumping beat. He cranked the volume to the maximum, and Kurt felt a small thrill of excitement when he felt the vibrations of the bass line run up his legs and reverberate through his chest.

"Did all that hair gel finally rot your brain?" Kurt heard crew leader Sylvester bark at Schuester above the noise emanating from the car speakers. "You can't trust these kids. They'll probably steal your car."

Schuester chuckled and said, "No, they're harmless. They just need a little creative outlet. They're just going to dance. Come on, Sue," he slung an arm over her shoulders. "Let's join Holly and David in the crew leaders common room. I'll come back before lights out to quiet them down."

Sue Sylvester shrugged violently to release her shoulders from Schuester's arm, but turned and followed him, only glancing back for a moment and meeting Kurt's eyes with a scowl. Kurt blinked and shook his head, refusing to let the ornery college student ruin his good mood.

Brittany and Mike started dancing, and soon the entire parking lot was a writhing mass of young bodies, thrashing to the beat as if their lives depended upon staying in perpetual motion. Kurt closed his eyes and let himself feel the thump of the bass as he gyrated his hips and flung his head from side to side. He let out a whoop, holding his arms above his head and twitching his hips to the beat.

When two hands settled on his hips and pulled him backwards into a warm body, Kurt only cracked his eyes open for a brief moment to glance around and see that there were no crew leaders or camp directors in sight before closing his eyes again with a sigh and sinking back against the firm chest. Kurt grinned triumphantly. He had been disappointed when Blaine implied that he was pining after a boy from school, but the hot hands on his hips and the firm thighs bumping against his ass gave him renewed hope that perhaps he'd caught Blaine's interest after all.

Kurt pressed his back firmly against the other boy's chest and tilted his head back until he felt Blaine's chin grazing the top of his head. He relaxed his hips and let the other boy's hands guide him to the rhythm of the song. With a small smile, Kurt opened his eyes, glancing around the throng of dancing bodies. Suddenly he stiffened, his eyes wide and his mouth falling open. He had spotted Blaine on the other side of the car, dancing with Sam and Tina.

Kurt froze, resisting the hands still gently pushing at his hips. The boy behind him leaned down and whispered in his ear, "Don't stop. You're such a great dancer."

Kurt spun around and tried to take a step back, but the other boy's hands held firm on his hips. They were so close together, Kurt had to tilt his head back to look up into the face of the other boy. He quickly scanned the narrow face framed by upswept chestnut hair before focusing on his piercing green eyes. "You're Sebastian," Kurt said.

Sebastian's eyes twinkled with a dangerous gleam and he grinned. "And you're Kurt. I've been meaning to introduce myself." Kurt felt Sebastian's warm breath on his face. The slight height difference stirred something primal within Kurt and his stomach flipped.

"Well, now we've met," Kurt said breathily.

"We certainly have," Sebastian said, moving his hands to Kurt's lower back in a tight grip and dragging him closer. "Let's dance," he said, nudging his leg between Kurt's and pushing their bodies together in a slow grind.

A thrill ran down Kurt's spine and he had to force his involuntary grin into a disapproving frown. "We'll get in trouble."

Sebastian glanced around the crowd and said, "I don't see Figgins around. Or any of the crew leaders for that matter." His hand slipped down to just above the swell of Kurt's ass. Kurt closed his eyes for a moment and let Sebastian move his hips in a circle, their bodies pressed close together. Kurt had never been this close to another boy and he was heady with scent of Sebastian's soap mixed with a hint of his sweat.

Kurt's senses were on high alert and he felt nearly overloaded by the joint press of Sebastian's palms against his lower back and his thighs against his own. The music pounded in his ears and his whole body tingled at the searing gaze Sebastian fixed him with. He felt incredibly powerful, soaring alongside the stars with the thrill of feeling wanted, in that way, for the first time.

Something nagged at the back of Kurt's mind and he tried to push it aside in favor of preserving this incredible feeling for as long as possible, but he couldn't keep his thoughts at bay. And while he was enjoying this silent, moving flirtation set to music, he also didn't want to jeopardize his reprieve from punishment that he had so recently labored for and won.

"I think we should stop dancing," Kurt said, extracting himself from Sebastian's hold reluctantly. "My crew leaves for the backcountry hike the day after tomorrow and I almost didn't get to go. I really can't get in trouble again and I'm sure Figgins wouldn't want to see us dancing like this." Kurt gestured toward their dancing peers. "I don't see anyone else dancing together like that. Well, except Brittany and Santana, but it's easier for girls to get away with it. I'm sure Figgins would accept that they were just friends…"

Sebastian raised an eyebrow and let his eyes rake over Kurt's body in hungry appraisal. When his eyes slowly trailed back up and locked onto Kurt's own, Sebastian grinned his approval. Kurt felt himself blush and was grateful for the cover of the dim light. "We don't have to dance," Sebastian said slowly. "What would you rather do instead?"

"Talk, I guess," Kurt said. He glanced toward Blaine, who had taken Rachel's hand and was spinning her in the middle of a circle of their friends. He didn't seem to notice that Kurt wasn't with the group. Kurt followed Sebastian to a nearby park bench and sat down in the shadows, watching the group of dancers.

"I'm glad you want to talk," Sebastian said sincerely. "I've wanted to meet you and talk with you ever since you instigated the sit in. That was just incredible, the way you got everyone to follow your lead. And you totally schooled Figgins. It was awesome that we got to go to the movies the next day. We really needed that."

"Thanks," Kurt said, ducking his head shyly. "I'm glad I could help." After a slightly awkward pause Kurt asked, "Are you on Sylvester's crew?"

"Yeah," Sebastian said. "She's pretty crazy. So is Holly Holiday, but she's fun crazy. Sue Sylvester is more insane and cruel."

"I'm sorry to hear that. I kind of got that sense from the few interactions I've had with her," Kurt said sympathetically. "So you're with my roommate Glen, then."

"Yes, I know Glen," Sebastian said.

"He doesn't talk to me much," Kurt said softly. "So, I don't really know what you're working on."

"We mostly level out gravel," Sebastian said absently, watching the dancers. After a moment he turned back to Kurt, fixing his face with an intent gaze. "But that's not particularly interesting. Come on, tell me about what you'd rather be doing than being stuck here."

"I'd rather be in New York," Kurt answered immediately. "Doing pretty much anything, especially if it's on Broadway. I actually am here doing this to increase my chances of getting into my dream school in New York. The dean there is a big environmentalist and has supported this organization in the past. So I thought having this on my resume would help."

"That's a good idea," Sebastian said. He grabbed Kurt's hand and pulled it into his lap, tracing patterns on Kurt's wrist with his thumb. "I thought you had an incredible brain to go along with your incredible body."

Kurt smiled. He knew Sebastian was laying on the complements extremely thick, but he didn't want to question his admirer's motives. He was content to enjoy having an admirer at all, which was quite a novelty for Kurt, who had only met two other out, gay boys his own age in his life – first Blaine and now Sebastian.

"What made you interested in New York, other than Broadway?" Sebastian asked.

Kurt thought about it for a moment. He had never been to New York, but he had been obsessed with the theater for years and his ambitions to be a star on the stage logically led him to an interest in the city that was home to Broadway. But he had read a lot about the city and certainly had studied it through movies and popular culture. "Well, I'd like to end up starring in a show on Broadway someday," Kurt said. "But also, I think that New York will be a far more accepting and diverse place to live than the small town in Ohio where I'm from."

"You're right," Sebastian said. "In fact, I'd be happy to tell you whatever you want to know about New York. I live in Scarsdale, which is just outside Manhattan. My friends and I go into the city all the time."

"Really?" Kurt asked, instantly fascinated. "Have you been to any shows?"

"It's not really my scene, but I've been to a few," Sebastian said. "I saw Wicked with my parents."

"Oh my God," Kurt exclaimed. "Tell me all about it."

Kurt and Sebastian talked animatedly until Will Schuester shut down the party by pulling his keys out of the car, the music vanishing into a momentary vacuum filled quickly by excited voices and a surge of noisy crickets. Kurt was so excited to hear Sebastian's stories about Broadway shows, Chinatown restaurants, and secretive trips with his friends to forbidden nightclubs that he had nearly forgotten that Sebastian was still playing with his hand and stroking his wrist. When Will called five minutes until lights out, Sebastian grasped Kurt's hand in both of his own and squeezed it. "Goodnight," he said, before heading up the path toward the cabins, turning after a few paces to flash a wink and a smile at Kurt over his shoulder. Kurt smiled back and waved, rooted to the spot as he watched Sebastian walk away.

"Kurt, there you are," called Blaine from behind him. Kurt turned around and smiled at his friend. "Were you dancing? I thought I would see you. There aren't that many of us."

"Sorry," Kurt said. "I didn't do much dancing. I met your friend Sebastian. Did you know that he's from New York?" Kurt bounced on his toes excitedly as he and Blaine walked toward the cabins side-by-side, missing Blaine's look of disappointment entirely as he gave him an abbreviated version of Sebastian's Big Apple adventures. Kurt gushed out the highlights in one breath, stopping only when they came to the fork in the path where they had to part ways and proceed to their separate cabins.

"Have a good night, Kurt. Sleep well," Blaine said.

"I'm so excited about the backcountry trip. It's going to be hard to sleep," Kurt replied. We have one more night here, but I have to pack in the morning and bring my bag to the lot where we get our tools. I'm not really sure why. Well, I better go. Goodnight," Kurt said with a hurried wave, bounding toward his cabin.

"I'll miss you," Blaine said under his breath, turning slowly and trudging the path toward the group bathroom. But Kurt was already halfway to his cabin and didn't hear him.

Kurt schooled his face into a neutral expression before opening his cabin door. After that one conversation with Kurt and Mercedes, Glen had gone back to scowling silently at Kurt or barking nasty orders at him about staying on his side of the room. Kurt avoided him as much as possible and didn't want to provoke his ire by smiling, or breathing, or whatever it might be that made his roommate so angry with him.

He pointedly avoided eye contact, but he felt Glen's eyes follow him and he rummaged through his bag for his sleepwear. He nearly jumped at Glen's gruff voice. "Yo! Mercedes available?"

Kurt took a few moments to regulate his breathing before he turned slowly toward Glen, who was glaring at him in his most intimidating fashion from his sprawling perch on his cot across the room. "Excuse me?" he asked slowly.

"I saw you dance with that Sebastian dude, and you didn't talk to that fine woman all night," Glen said, each word clipped and staccato, with not even a blink to break the power of his glare. "So she's no longer off limits. To me." He slapped a hand to his chest and the sound echoed loudly in the small cabin.

Kurt closed his eyes for a moment. He could not wait to take the backcountry trip just to get away from his caveman roommate for a week. And luckily, Mercedes would be on the backcountry trip, too. But in the meantime, he wanted to offer his friend some level of protection from his roommate's unwanted advances. He opened his eyes again, fixing them on Glen in his best imitation of his roommate's piercing glare. "Sebastian is just a friend. Mercedes and I are so on." They stared at each other in silence for long moments, the only sound their huffed out, angry breaths. Kurt added in a vehement, near-growl, "I better not hear about you harassing my girlfriend. If you so much as breath in her direction – "

Glen held his hands up in a gesture of surrender and shrugged. "All right, man. You can't blame a guy for asking."

Kurt didn't respond. When he turned back to grab his toiletries bag, he used his back to shield his trembling hands from Glen's view. He wished there was a way to list the improvement to his acting skills on his resume under this job. He comforted himself with the thought that he could harness these new skills in his next community theater audition and perhaps land a part before he had to submit the application to NYADA next year.

The next day, Kurt, Mercedes, and the other members of their crew lined up their backpacks for inspection by crew leaders Martinez and Schuester. This was a trial run of packing for the backcountry trip leaving the following day. The packs issued by the camp were large with metal frames and lots of supportive straps. Still, Kurt found it challenging to fit all of his clothes and toiletries into the relatively small space.

"Everyone line up. Place your packs on the ground," Martinez instructed.

"I can't believe we have to hike up a mountain with these things on our backs," Mercedes whispered as she dropped her pack on the ground next to Kurt's with a thud. "They're heavy even when they're empty."

Kurt nodded in agreement. "By the way, Glen was asking about you again."

"Oh hell to the no," Mercedes exclaimed in hushed tones. "What did you tell him?"

"To stay away from my girlfriend," Kurt said, holding a straight face as long as he could before the two of them dissolved into choked back giggles.

"Thanks," Mercedes said gratefully, as they turned their attention to the crew leaders, who had been talking to the group throughout their entire whispered conversation.

" – a valuable educational exercise for everyone," Schuester was saying. "Kurt, let's start with you,"

"What?" Kurt asked, whipping his head toward the crew leader and staring at him with wide eyes.

"Were you not listening just now?" Schuester sighed in exasperation. "I need you to empty your pack. We're going to go through everything you put in there to assess its suitability for backcountry hiking."

"Oh," Kurt said softly. He bent down to unzip his pack.

"Everybody empty your packs," Martinez said sharply. "Lay our all of your items in neat rows on the ground so we can see everything."

"We're going to go through this with everyone individually," Schuester said, standing if front of Kurt's rows of belongings. "But we'll discuss Kurt's things as a group first. Then we'll give everyone a chance to separate what _you _think are your necessary and unnecessary items before Martinez and I make the final cut."

Schuester crouched down and picked up each of Kurt's items one by one, asking him why he thought he needed this particular shirt or pair of pants. He chastised Kurt for almost everything he had packed. Schuester loudly counted out the underwear and socks needed for the week-long trip, placing the spares Kurt had added aside. He also culled down Kurt's wardrobe, honing it from a full range of pants, shorts, shirts, and accessories to two pairs of long pants and a few shirts.

"What's in there?" Schuester asked, pointing a long, accusing finger at Kurt's forest green toiletries bag.

"That's for my toothpaste and soap and stuff," Kurt mumbled.

"Well open it up," Schuester demanded.

Kurt unzipped the rather large bag and pulled out a bottle of moisturizer. Schuester and the rest of the crew watched in silence, the frown on the crew leader's face growing deeper as Kurt pulled out smaller moisturizers, acne cream, and sunscreen and placed them on the ground.

"I'm going to stop you there," Schuester said. He looked away and cleared his throat before focusing on Kurt again. "I know that young men have, um, needs. But you do realize that the whole group is going to share a tent, right? You're not going to have the – uh – privacy you need for – " he gestured vaguely at the assorted moisturizers.

Kurt stared at the crew leader, puzzled, as snickers of laughter erupted from the rest of the group. "What do you – "

Kurt looked up and saw Dave punch Azimio in the arm to get his attention. Dave crudely mimed jerking off and the two dissolved into laughter.

"Oh, God. No," Kurt said in horror, feeling his cheeks burn brightly. "I have a strict skin care regimen." Now even Mike, Brittany, and Mercedes were giggling. Mercedes clapped a hand over her mouth and shrugged apologetically. "For my _face_," Kurt huffed angrily.

"All right, everyone," Schuester said. "Settle down." He gestured toward Kurt's toiletries bag. "You can't bring the moisturizers. They're too heavy and they'll attract bears. You can go without them for a week. What else is in there?"

When Kurt pulled out a can of hairspray, Schuester simply held out his hand, palm up until Kurt handed it over. Schuester dangled the between two fingers, holding it away from his body as if it were the rotting carcass of some long-dead rodent. "Kurt, you don't have room for this," he admonished. Dave and Azimio snickered and Kurt glared at them, itching to flip them the bird but wary of the watchful eyes of Martinez and Schuester. Schuester flung the hairspray unceremoniously on top of the pile of rejected clothing, followed by all of the moisturizers.

"But my hair – " Kurt started to protest.

"We all have to make sacrifices," Schuester said dispassionately.

"Use this," Martinez said gruffly, tossing a red bandana to Kurt. "Tie that around your head to keep your bangs out of your face and you won't need hairspray. You can't bring that stuff. Hairspray and moisturizers can attract bears. They'll think it's food and we can only put so much of our stuff up in sacks hanging from trees. And you'll thank me when the bugs leave you alone. Besides, everyone needs to be able to fit parts of our tents and cookware in their packs, too." He thrust a frying pan, tent poles, pasta, cook stove fuel, and a few cans of soup into Kurt's arms. "Add this and repack your bag." He looked up at the entire assembled crew. "And everyone be sure to fill both of your water bottles before we leave tomorrow morning."

"All right, everyone," Schuester added. "Go through your stuff and try figure out what items you can leave behind. I can guarantee that each and every one of you packed at least a few things you don't really need. We'll give you five minutes and then we'll come around to look at how you did." As he walked away, he tossed out over his shoulder, almost as an afterthought, "Thanks for being our example, Kurt."

"Wow," Mercedes said softly. "That was brutal. I'm sorry, Kurt."

"It's okay," he said. He glanced over at her belongings, which she had already started to separate into two piles. "I can hide that for you," he said kindly, pointing toward the large pack of sanitary pads she had half hidden under a sweatshirt. "I doubt they'll be looking at my stuff again this morning. I can give it back to you later today."

"Thanks," Mercedes said with a smile. "I really don't want those paraded around for everyone to snicker at."

"No problem," Kurt said, wrapping a t-shirt around the pads and shoving them into the bottom of his bag.

After all the bags were inspected and the group's gear divided among them, the crew members returned their full packs and the extra items that didn't make the cut to their cabins, then lined back up to grab their tools and head out to the trail to begin work for the day.

The next day, Kurt lined up with his crew by the sheds as usual, but this time they all had their full packs resting on the ground in front of them. He and Mercedes chatted quietly as they watched the other two crews get their tools for the workday. They waved to Blaine, Rachel, and Tina as they watched their friends trudge off down the path toward the trails they were building near base camp. Sebastian's crew filed past next. Sebastian winked at Kurt and he smiled in return. He glanced nervously at Mercedes, but she was digging through her pack to find her water bottle and had missed the exchange.

Once the other crews had cleared out, Martinez and Schuester lined them up for a final combined safety lecture and pep talk before they hiked to the mountain trail head. Once everyone had the heavy packs securely strapped on their backs, the crew leaders handed each crew member a pair of tools, one for each hand. "Don't forget," Martinez said as he pushed a shovel into Kurt's right hand and a pair of loppers in the other, "we need to pack everything in with us, including the tools we need for our work."

The hike lasted hours. The climb was steep and they only took a few breaks for water or to quickly chew a granola bar. Kurt's legs burned beneath him from a combination of the heavy pack on his shoulders and the dramatic incline. Kurt quickly learned that Martinez and Schuester had very different hiking styles. Martinez seemed focused on hiking as an athletic pursuit and he tackled the mountain with long, quick strides. Schuester wandered up the trail more slowly, stopping frequently to admire a flower or to point out a pile of scat or another sign of wildlife to anyone who would listen.

At first, Kurt walked with Mercedes, but she seemed content to stay close to Schuester, grateful for the frequent breaks as he droned on about using leaf scars as a method to identify species of trees.

Kurt soon found himself drawn to Martinez. None of the crew members could keep up with him. He seemed to bound up the side of the mountain like a gazelle. Kurt figured it was because Martinez had so much experience with this athletic style of hiking while Kurt and most of his fellow crew members had hardly experienced car camping, let alone a backcountry hike. But Kurt did his best to catch up to Martinez and soon he found himself far ahead of the rest of the group.

Kurt felt a real sense of accomplishment when he looked down the mountain and across the vast valley below. His speedy hike up the path earned him nearly an hour to rest, drink water, and explore the wooded ground that would soon become their campsite as he and Martinez waited for the rest of the group to reach the top.

Over the course of the week-long trip, Kurt learned how to set up a tent, how to cook on a propane stove, how to dig – and refill – a bathroom trench, and how to take a quick shower with a bottle of water on the cliff side.

He had been correct in his predictions. The cool breeze at the top of the mountain made the weather much more bearable and the work they did each day was surprisingly easy. In fact, most of the work consisted of walking along a trail that was already fairly well maintained and occasionally sawing down a broken tree limb or lopping off an encroaching branch to keep the trail clear.

He had worried that sleeping in one big group tent might pose some problems, especially when Dave and Azimio loudly refused to sleep anywhere near "the gay kid." Luckily, Mike and Matt volunteered to sleep between Kurt and the other boys. Schuester and Martinez slept on the other side of Kurt, separating the boys from the Mercedes, Brittany, and Sugar.

It wasn't until their last full day of work at the top of the mountain that Mercedes told Kurt in hushed tones that he should watch out for Sebastian.

"What do you mean?" Kurt asked.

"I mean, Blaine told me something Sebastian said about you and I think you need to watch your back around him," Mercedes said conspiratorially. She leaned closer to Kurt and added, "Don't trust him."

"Why?" Kurt asked. "What exactly did Blaine say?"

"He said Sebastian wanted to place a bet with him – about you," Mercedes said. "Sebastian said he would 'get' you as soon as we come back from this backcountry trip."

"Get me how?" Kurt said, wrinkling his brow in confusion.

Mercedes put a hand on her hip and leveled Kurt with a disbelieving look. When Kurt simply shrugged and looked at her questioningly, she said, "Wow. You really don't know? Sebastian thinks you're going to sleep with him. Apparently, he was bragging about how easy you'd be to seduce."

Kurt wrinkles his nose and shakes his head dismissively. "No. Sebastian's not like that. Did you hear any of this yourself?"

"No," Mercedes said. "Blaine told me at breakfast before we left. He was hoping I might warn you. He said he felt a little weird telling you himself."

"Oh, well that explains it, then," Kurt said nonchalantly, turning to snare a stray branch from a shrub with his loppers.

"You're not worried about it?" Mercedes asked doubtfully.

"Nah," Kurt said confidently. "I think Blaine is just jealous because Sebastian was hitting on him before. Blaine turned him down, but when he talked with me about it I got the feeling he was still thinking about it and might change his mind. He probably can't stand to see Sebastian interested in someone else."

"I guess," Mercedes said slowly. "But I think you should be careful. You don't want to get in trouble again."

Kurt laughed. "Blaine is the one I got in trouble with, not Sebastian. And Blaine and I didn't even do anything."

Mercedes ignored Kurt's laughter. "I'm serious, Kurt. I care about you. A lot. And I have to admit, I kind of thought you and Blaine would end up together. He really is nice," she added, giving him a pointed look.

"Blaine is nice," Kurt agreed. "And he's a good friend. Just a friend." Kurt turned and faced Mercedes again, his brow creased with worry. "Wait – you're not going to tell him that I think he's jealous, are you?"

"No," Mercedes said quickly. "Of course not. I mean, I like Blaine, but I'm your friend first."

Kurt smiled, dropping his shoulders in relief. "Thanks, Mercedes. I don't want to upset him or anything. And like I said, he's a great friend. But I'm not interested in getting into any more trouble – with Blaine or Sebastian or anyone else. I just want to finish this job, get my paycheck and maybe even a letter of recommendation, and get myself back into the glory of air conditioning and Wi-Fi as soon as possible."

"I feel you," Mercedes said enthusiastically. "When I get home I'm just going to sit on my butt and watch movies for a whole week."

"That sounds great," Kurt said sincerely. He started hacking at the shrub again, but Mercedes stopped him with another question.

"Even if Blaine was jealous, why would he say it like that? About Sebastian wanting to make a bet with him and everything? It doesn't really sound like something Blaine would come up with on his own."

Kurt thought about it for a moment. "Maybe Sebastian did say something to him. After all, Sebastian did make it pretty clear to me that he was interested in me. I just think Blaine might be exaggerating the facts a bit. Besides, I wouldn't worry about it. No one is going to 'get' me without my permission, okay? And Blaine being jealous of me getting Sebastian's attention isn't really that far-fetched. You know how Blaine likes to be the center of attention."

Mercedes laughed. "Yeah, he's almost as bad as Rachel."

Kurt took the opportunity to steer their conversation away from Blaine and Sebastian. He entertained Mercedes for the rest of the workday with stories of Rachel's most outrageous attention-seeking moments from high school.

Kurt busied himself with cooking that night. As the assigned cook, along with Mike, he wasn't required to clean up after the meal, but Kurt volunteered to help Brittany and Sugar with the dishes. And when the group had a final bonfire, Kurt even let himself laugh along with the whole group at the goofy antics of Dave and Azimio. When Dave suggested they tell ghost stories, Kurt surprised himself by being the first to agree. He and Mercedes shrieked and grabbed onto each other when Martinez shouted out the surprise ending of his ghastly tale. Kurt even told a story – he based it on the plot of an old black-and-white horror film that he doubted anyone else around the campfire had seen. Kurt's dramatic storytelling captivated his fellow crew members and even earned him a light punch on the shoulder from Azimio, followed quickly by, "You're all right, man."

With all of this activity, Kurt successfully avoided thinking about what Mercedes told him until he was burrowed into his sleeping back later that night. No longer able to squelch his thoughts with busywork and chatter, Kurt tossed and turned in an effort to escape until Martinez whispered at him harshly to stay still for a minute so other people could fall asleep.

After that, Kurt stretched out on his back, staring unblinkingly into the darkness. He could almost feel Sebastian's strong arms around him, could almost see his confident smirk. The thought sent a thrill through Kurt. There was something inherently attractive about Sebastian's confidence and Kurt shivered in delight as he remembered the slight sense of danger he had felt in Sebastian's presence. It was flattering to think that Sebastian, who was sophisticated and worldly and regularly spent time in Manhattan, might find Kurt attractive. Smiling, Kurt pictured Sebastian's green eyes and his plush lips. He closed his eyes, wondering what those lips might feel like moving against his own and allowing himself to drift into sleep at last.


	3. Chapter 3

Hiking up the mountain toward the backcountry campsite felt like the start of an adventure. Returning to base camp, on the other hand, felt like a slow trudge toward imprisonment. It didn't help that the path down the mountain – a different path than the one they used to climb up – was treacherous. Even wearing the regulation heavy-duty hiking boots he was forced to purchase before starting the job, Kurt's feet continually threatened to slip from underneath him on the loose rocks and gravel. Every few minutes, a pile of debris would tear down the slope, kicked loose by one of the crew members as they skidded and tried to catch themselves before falling. The heavy packs on their backs just added to the pull of gravity. Kurt was a bit better balanced than some of his companions, and probably could have made his way down the slope a bit more quickly, but he held back to give Mercedes a hand through some of the rougher patches. Everyone, including the crew leaders, were in a bad mood. They already missed the relative freedom of the mountain top.

They stumbled into base camp on tired legs about mid-day on Sunday. Kurt managed to empty his pack, take a long-awaited and glorious shower, and change clothes without running into anyone other than his own crew members, who were also grooming themselves and settling back in.

Kurt took a deep breath and released it, his hand on the common room door, before he opened it and stepped inside. He expected it to be bustling with activity – card games, a game of pool, groups of teenagers sitting around and talking. But the room was quiet, and nearly empty. Mike and Brittany were stretched out on two of the couches. Mike raised a hand to Kurt in greeting before dropping it back down to his thigh with a groan.

"Hey Mike. Hey Brittany," Kurt said. Brittany lifted her head and gave him a brief smile before relaxing back into the cushions. "Where is everyone?"

"They're at the movies," came a voice from the back of the room. Kurt looked up and met Sebastian's eyes.

"Bastards," Mike muttered, a hand now thrown over his eyes. "They would take everyone for another movie trip when our crew wasn't even here."

"I don't care," Brittany said flatly, as if speaking with inflection was beyond her present capabilities. "I'm too tired to move, let alone enjoy a movie right now. I don't even know why I came to the common room. It just means I'm going to have to walk back to my cabin so I can sleep."

Kurt stared at Sebastian and he could feel the color rising on his cheeks as Sebastian's eyes roamed across his body, one side of his mouth turned up in an approving and confident smirk. Kurt took a step toward him and asked, "If everyone else went to the movies, why are you still here?"

"I wanted to be here when you got back," Sebastian said, grinning broadly.

"Oh," Kurt said softly, dropping his gaze to the floor and feeling even more heat burn across his face. He dared a small glance up toward Sebastian, who was still smiling at him. "That was nice."

"Come on," Sebastian said, turning toward the door to the screened in porch and gesturing at Kurt to follow him. "I want to hear all about your adventures on the mountain."

Kurt glanced back at Mike and Brittany, both inert on their respective sofas, and followed Sebastian, forcing his legs to move forward smoothly and solemnly, no matter how much he itched to skip. He was suddenly full of energy, all of his weariness melting away with the newfound excitement of feeling wanted and wondering what might happen.

Just before Kurt reached the porch door he heard another voice call out to him. "Kurt! You're back."

Kurt turned around just before Blaine caught up to him, arms outstretched. Kurt opened his own arms and let Blaine wrap around him. He held his own arms open stiffly for a moment before placing them gently on Blaine's back and rubbing them lightly up and down.

"Did everyone just get back from the movies?" Kurt asked, stepping back with a questioning look.

Blaine smiled and looked away bashfully. "No. I don't think so. I mean, I wasn't at the movies, so I don't know."

"You didn't go to the movies either?" Kurt asked incredulously.

"No, of course not." Blaine looked into Kurt's eyes searchingly. "No movie is worth missing you for one more minute than I had to."

Kurt opened his mouth to speak, but after a few moments, he closed it again, shaking his head in shock. He felt so special, so incredibly cared for – first by Sebastian and now by his incredible friend.

"Oh, great. I didn't know you were still here," Sebastian said pointedly, holding the porch door open and staring at Blaine with narrowed eyes.

"Hello Sebastian," Blaine said with exaggerated graciousness. "Of course I stayed. I couldn't let you be the only member of Kurt's welcome committee."

Kurt felt the smile drain from his face. He looked from Sebastian to Blaine and wrapped one arm across his waist. When he told Mercedes that he thought Blaine was jealous that Sebastian had turned his attention from Blaine to Kurt, he was mostly trying to silence her questions and warnings. Now, however, Blaine's own actions seemed to prove Kurt's casual theory correct.

"I agree with what you said before about regretting coming here," Mike said to Brittany, "but now I'm beginning to approve of the decision."

"Yes, this is very entertaining," Brittany said.

Kurt rolled his eyes in their direction, but the effect was lost as they were both lying prone and couldn't see his eyes over the backs of the sofas. "Let's move this reunion a little further from our eavesdropping friends," Kurt said, walking between Blaine and Sebastian and through the door to the porch. The other two boys followed close behind. They pulled three rocking chairs into a semi-circle at one end of the porch.

"So, just before you came along and interrupted us," Sebastian said to Blaine with thinly veiled hostility, "I was asking Kurt to tell me about his trip."

"Oh yes," Blaine said, smiling at Kurt and ignoring Sebastian. "I know you were really looking forward to the backcountry hike. How did it go?"

Kurt starts with a vague answer about the trip being pleasant, but both Blaine and Sebastian seem genuinely interested in the details. Both of them keep asking questions until Kurt is entertaining them with dramatic stories about crew leader Schuester killing a snake and describing in great detail the beauty of watching the stars through the fly mesh at the top of the tent at night.

It's not until he is telling them about his makeshift method of showering that he realizes that his theory about Blaine's jealousy might be slightly flawed. Kurt didn't intend to talk about self-care on the mountaintop exactly, but Blaine had asked Kurt what was his favorite thing about the trip and Kurt had immediately answered, "the freedom." Sebastian asked him to elaborate and Kurt had given examples – the coolness of the air, the distance from base camp and the oppressive rule of Figgins, the relative easiness of the work. But then he looked into the distance and his face lit up as he described the beauty of his moments alone on the mountaintop. And his most spectacular moments of solitude happened when he found a secluded spot on the other side of a rock outcrop from the camp. He would shuffle out onto the rock, look down at the view of trees below and feel the cool breeze on his skin as he stripped off his clothes and poured a steady stream of cold water over the top of his head that ran down his body.

In telling this story, Kurt was reliving the feeling of peace and solitude, as well as his awe at his own smallness compared to the vast height of the mountain. But when Kurt came out of his reverie and focused again on Sebastian and Blaine, he realized that both boys were staring at him, looking as though they were imagining his naked body and longing to devour him. Kurt shivered, blushed, and quickly changed the topic of conversation. But he realized in that moment that although Blaine was indeed jealous, he wasn't jealous that Sebastian had turned his attention from Blaine to Kurt. Blaine was jealous of Sebastian pulling Kurt's attention away from himself.

Kurt felt his cheeks burn at this realization. He trained his eyes on the floor and cleared his throat. "Uh – anyone else hungry?" He got to his feet without looking at either of them. "The kitchen's still open if we want something, right?"

Sebastian and Blaine followed Kurt closely to the kitchen. The three of them spent a few minutes rummaging through the refrigerator and cabinets. When they each had a sandwich in front of them, they carried their plates back to the porch.

Kurt asked about how things were going at base camp, but Blaine and Sebastian didn't have much interesting news to share, so they soon focused back on Kurt's trip again. He recalled the ghost stories by the campfire, and even gave them a brief sketch of a few of the stories, including his own.

Even with the excitement of the rapt attention of two boys hanging on his every word, Kurt couldn't suppress the yawn that crept upon him as his body relaxed into the porch chair.

"You're looking a bit tired," Sebastian said with concern. "We shouldn't keep you up any longer. Let me walk you back to your cabin."

"Okay," Kurt agreed, taking Sebastian's hand and using the leverage to help him get to his feet.

Across from him, Blaine also jumped up. He glared at Sebastian and said, "I think Kurt can make his way back on his own. I need to talk with you about something."

"Blaine," Sebastian reprimanded. "And here I thought you were a gentleman. I'm not going to let Kurt walk up back by himself when he so clearly can use a shoulder to lean on."

"Fine," Blaine grumbled. "We can both go with him."

Kurt watched this exchange with growing annoyance. Flattering as it was to have two boys seemingly interested in him, he felt that Sebastian had offered to walk with him out of genuine concern and that Blaine was trying to prevent them from having a moment alone.

"It's okay, Blaine," Kurt said in a clipped, but firm tone. "Sebastian and I will see you tomorrow."

"But Kurt," Blaine said desperately, grabbing at his hand. "I need to tell you something, It's really important."

Sebastian stared daggers at Blaine. "Don't you dare," he said sternly.

"Kurt, you need to know that Sebastian – "

"Anderson!" Sue Sylvester's booming voice cut through the dining hall. The three boys swung their heads in her direction, just as she flung open the door to the porch. "What the hell is this? The backcountry pride parade?" she sneered.

"How can we help you, Ms. Sylvester?" Sebastian asked smoothly.

"I'm here for Anderson," she barked back, jabbing a finger in Blaine's direction. "Your parents have been calling the office all night, bugging us near to death. Figgins finally broke down and caved on his no mid-week calls rule and I've been looking all over the damn camp for you."

"Oh my God," Blaine said, face suddenly drained of color. "What's wrong?"

"Wrong?" Sue Sylvester snapped. "I'll tell you what's wrong. Your damned entitled parents thinking they have the right to disrupt the entire camp just because your grandmother is visiting from overseas and wants to talk with you."

Blaine stared at her for a moment before his breathing regulated and he broke out in a tentative smile. "Oh. That's good. I thought someone had died or something."

"Well, come on," Sue grumbled. "Don't keep your precious grandma waiting."

Blaine jumped up and took a few hesitant steps toward Sue before turning back, glancing forlornly between Kurt and a grinning, triumphant Sebastian. "Kurt, before I go I need to tell you – "

"Anderson! Don't you dare keep me waiting!" Sue barked.

"I guess I better go," Blaine said.

"Yes, you better," Sebastian drawled in a pleased tone.

Blaine glared at him, flashed one last weak smile toward Kurt while pushing his way backwards through the door.

"And finally, we're alone," Sebastian said slowly. He was grinning in a way Kurt wasn't sure how to describe, but it made him feel a little uncomfortable. Hungrily, he thought, and coughed awkwardly, suddenly fascinated with a dark knot in the wood on the floor.

"Everything okay?" Sebastian asked. Kurt looked up at the concern in his voice and decided that he must have imagined the hungry look. Sebastian's smile was radiant and innocent.

"Yes, of course," Kurt said quickly. "I guess I am a little tired, sorry."

"No need to apologize," Sebastian said gently. "I'm sure it's been a long day for you."

"So, what was that all about with Blaine?" Kurt asked. He suspected that it had something to do with the bet, but he didn't really want to believe it.

"Hmm," Sebastian said with a puzzled expression. "I don't really know. I think maybe it's because I told him about one of my past boyfriends and he thought he had to warn you that I'm some sort of man killer or something." Sebastian laughed easily, his eyes open wide in the picture of innocence. "I'm really not like that though, I swear. I think he just wants you for himself."

Kurt studied Sebastian's expression and decided he was telling the truth. He also realized that he was a bit annoyed with Blaine. After all, why was he suddenly interested in Kurt now, just because someone else finally showed some interest? Blaine had had plenty of chances to show his interest and 'get' Kurt before Sebastian even came into the picture. And even if there was some kind of bet about whether Sebastian could get him into bed, it annoyed Kurt that Blaine didn't seem to think he could take care of himself.

"Come on, it's been a long night," Sebastian said gently. "Why don't I walk you back to your cabin like I said before?"

"That would be great, thanks," Kurt replied, his lips upturned in a slight smile.

"Oh, I thought of some more places you have to check out when you go to New York," Sebastian said, holding the door open and gesturing for Kurt to go first.

"Do tell," Kurt said, any trace of feeling tired leaving him suddenly as he warmed to the exciting topic. By the time they meandered up the dark path to the door of Kurt's cabin, Sebastian was in the middle of a story about the beauty of the fountains at the conservatory garden in Central Park. "It's a magical place, especially at night, when the reflection of the street lights sparkle in the water. It's even better when there's a performance at the same time."

"Does that happen a lot?" Kurt asked, fascinated.

"It's not every day, that I know of, but I've been lucky enough to see a few," Sebastian said. He glanced at the closed door of the cabin and Kurt immediately opened it wide.

"Please, come in," he said. "I want to hear all about it."

"Your side, I presume?" Sebastian said, gesturing at the neatly made bed, camping gear still unpacked beside it. On the other side of the room, Glenn's blanket and sheets were a rumpled pile in the middle of the bed, socks and t-shirts draped over the bedside table and strewn across the floor.

Kurt looked down his nose at Glen's mess and sighed. "I don't know how he tolerates it like that." Kurt turned around to see Sebastian sitting on the edge of his bed.

"I think the a cappella group was the best," Sebastian said. He raised an eyebrow and patted the bed beside him.

The room suddenly felt very small. Kurt's heart pounded against his chest and his stomach flipped. His eyes flicked over Sebastian's face, studying his sharp cheekbones, his green eyes, the plumpness of his lips. After a moment, Kurt realized he was standing in the middle of the room, staring open-mouthed at the boy on his bed, one arm wrapped around his stomach, his fingernails digging into the arm hanging by his side. Startled, Kurt tore his gaze from Sebastian's lips and looked instead at his eyes. "Um, what?" he said stupidly.

Sebastian smiled and leaned back to make more room for Kurt. "I said they had a great a cappella group this one time. Do you like that style?"

"Oh, yeah. I mean, yes. That sounds great." Kurt stepped forward and gingerly lowered himself onto the bed, still looking into Sebastian's eyes. "What was it like?"

"Amazing," Sebastian said. "It was really romantic – like being serenaded under the moonlight."

Kurt smiled, looking first into one of Sebastian's eyes and then the other. Sebastian's gaze dropped. Kurt felt a thrill run down his spine as he realized Sebastian must be looking at his lips. They suddenly felt dry. He was already licking them before he realized how that must look, and stopped, biting his lip for a moment instead.

"I realize something now," Sebastian said softly, looking deeply into Kurt's eyes again.

"What's that?" Kurt asked, his eyes glued to Sebastian's.

"It would be so much better to be there with you," Sebastian said. He leaned forward, gaze fixed on Kurt's lips again, tilting his head as he moved closer.

Kurt's heart raced even faster and he felt a rush of heat surge through his body. He closed his eyes and leaned in just slightly and shivered as he felt Sebastian's soft breath on his face just moments before their lips pressed together.

It was soft and warm and gentle. Kurt kept his eyes closed and tilted his head a little further to the side as he felt Sebastian's fingers run up his neck and through his hair. Sebastian sucked on Kurt's bottom lip and pulled it gently, and Kurt opened up to him.

And all of a sudden it was all fast and desperate and wet as Sebastian pressed forward, gripping the back of Kurt's head and exploring his mouth with his tongue. Kurt heard himself moan softly, but he barely felt the crest of the wave of his embarrassment before he was utterly lost in the sensation of tongue sliding against tongue. He pulled back and drew Sebastian's lip into his mouth, rolling it between his lips experimentally and tugging at it before dipping his tongue between Sebastian's open lips in renewed exploration.

Sebastian pressed forward, pushing Kurt's shoulders until he was lying back on the bed. He nudged Kurt's legs with his knees and straddled him. Kurt didn't care how loudly he moaned when Sebastian lowered his hips and rubbed his hardness against Kurt's.

"God, you are perfect," Sebastian breathed into Kurt's ear and Kurt's hips bucked at the delicious sensation.

"Kiss me," he whined, gripping Sebastian with a hand on each side of his face and pulling him down until their mouths met and they melted into each other again.

They panted and writhed and groaned, completely lost in desperately devouring each other. Kurt dug his fingers into Sebastian's back, sliding them inch by inch toward the swell of his ass.

"What the fuck?"

Kurt froze beneath Sebastian, who was still moving on top of him.

"Seriously, Kurt, what the hell?" Glenn's voice boomed through the tiny cabin again. "God, my eyes," Glenn groaned, covering them with one hand dramatically.

Kurt shoved Sebastian off of him and sat up, swinging toward Glenn.

"I'm s-sorry," he stuttered. "I didn't know you were back."

"Obviously," Glenn said sarcastically, lowering his hand and fixing a glare on Kurt. "Disgusting," he muttered, backing out of the door.

"Glenn, wait – " Kurt started, but the door was already slamming shut behind Glenn as he stormed back down the path. "Oh my God," Kurt said, his panic rising rapidly. "What should we do?"

"How is that even a question?" Sebastian asked, stretching languidly before reaching for Kurt, pulling him back onto the bed.

"But Glenn – "

"He's gone," Sebastian said, grinning and pressing their lips together.

"No," Kurt said, pushing Sebastian away and jumping up and off the bed. "You don't understand. You have to get out of here."

"Aw, come on, baby," Sebastian said. "We were just getting started."

"What is wrong with you?" Kurt practically shouted. "I bet he's telling Figgins right now. We can't have him find us here together. Go on – go," Kurt said desperately, pushing Sebastian out the door.

Kurt immediately began pacing the several steps back and forth from the door to the other end of the small cabin, rapidly running a hand through his hair again and again, willing himself to think. It didn't matter that his first alleged transgression was false. Figgins believed that Kurt and Blaine had engaged in forbidden sexual contact during their walk in the woods the week before. And this time, Kurt actually had been kissing someone. And there was an eye witness. Glenn – who had every reason to try to get Kurt kicked out of the program.

"Oh my God," Kurt muttered to himself. "I'm going to get fired. Shit. I have to think. Think, think, think." Repeating the word to himself wasn't helping and the cabin began to feel oppressive, as if the very walls were closing in on him.

Kurt rummaged through his backpack and pulled out his toiletry bag. Not even bothering to retrieve the moisturizers that he wasn't allowed to bring on the backcountry trip, Kurt rushed out of the cabin and to the bathroom. But no matter how vigorously he brushed his teeth and scrubbed his face, he couldn't think of a good excuse to present to Figgins that would explain what Glenn had seen.

When Kurt returned to his cabin, Will Schuester was waiting for him. "Kurt, you better come with me."

They sat in silence. Kurt crossed and uncrossed his legs. He tugged on his pants, smoothing out a crease. He tapped one foot up and down. Will jumped up from the seat behind his desk and paced a few steps back and forth in front of it, before leaning against it and running a hand through his hair with a weary sigh.

"I wasn't going to say anything, but I just can't help it, Kurt," Will muttered, unable to even look in Kurt's direction.

Kurt remained silent.

"I mean, I even believed you when you said that thing that happened with Blaine was just a misunderstanding. An innocent walk in the woods where you both lost track of the time."

"It was – " Kurt started in a petulant tone.

"Don't even start with me," Will cut him off, leveling Kurt with a steely stare. Kurt sucked a breath in, startled by the wrath emanating from his usually laid-back crew leader. "I mean, I get the temptation. I really do. I'm an education major and I've had to do some student teaching. Young girls throw themselves at me all the time. But you have to know that you can get _arrested _for that. Not to mention that it's just so very, very wrong."

Kurt cocked his head and wrinkled his brow. These words were so unexpected that he didn't know how to respond. After a moment, he managed a faint "What?"

"I mean, I'm sure Blaine can take care of himself. I don't need to know what really went on there – nor do I want to. But Sebastian? Kurt, you should be ashamed of yourself."

"Um, I'm really confused…" Kurt said softly.

"Don't even try to play this off like you didn't know," Will continued, the words dripping with disgust. "That kid has so much to deal with already with his home situation, and then you have to go and take advantage."

"Take advantage?" Kurt echoed dumbly, not understanding what Will was talking about. He wasn't even sure if they were talking about Blaine or Sebastian or someone else entirely.

"Of his age!" Will shouted.

"His age?" Kurt knew Blaine's age without a doubt. Seventeen. One year younger than Kurt. Kurt then thought back to his conversations with Sebastian. Had it only been two conversations? It has seemed like he had known Sebastian for so much longer. It was as if the camp was operating in some alternate dimension, where time barreled by, and one day felt like weeks. Kurt blinked, chasing away the unhelpful tangent on which his mind seemed bent on wandering. He replayed his conversations with Sebastian to himself, sifting through all the words exchanged for some clue about Sebastian's age. "He's seventeen," Kurt said out loud.

Will stared at him in disbelief. "Do you really not know?"

"Know what?" Kurt asked. "We talked about what colleges we're applying to…"

"Sebastian is fourteen."

Kurt felt the floor drop under him as the color drained from his face. His stomach twisted and he slumped back in his chair. He looked down at his hands, twisting in his lap. Funny – he had always thought his long lean fingers meant he had piano player's hands. Now all he saw were the hands of a child molester. His skin crawled and he shuddered. "That's not possible," he whispered. After all, Sebastian was always in charge – had instigated everything between them. Had seemed so sure of himself. And he was so tall.

Will sighed again. "Look, Kurt," he said, leaning forward from his perch against the desk, "I believe you that you didn't know. I think you're a good guy who's made some mistakes. But you need to make sure that you know damn well how old your, um, partners, are before you start fooling around with them."

"Oh God," Kurt moaned, cradling his head in his hands.

"You're actually really lucky that Glenn walked in on you when he did."

"I hope you can understand why I don't feel particularly lucky about that," Kurt said dryly.

"You know what I mean," Will snapped. "You're eighteen, Kurt, for God's sake. If you had actually had any kind of, well, uh… penetration…" Will trailed off awkwardly, gathering his thoughts. "We would have had to get the police involved. Actually, that could still happen, depending on what Sebastian is telling Figgins right now. But either way, you'll most certainly be going home tomorrow."

Well, that was it. There was no way Kurt could let NYADA know that he had been kicked out of his trail maintenance job for child molestation. The past six weeks of self-depravation, boredom, and challenging work in the heat had all been for nothing. All he wanted to do was get under a hot shower and just scrub and scrub until he had removed every skin cell that might have ever had contact with Sebastian. Without looking up he moaned, "Can we please stop talking about this?"


	4. Chapter 4

Kurt didn't have to wait much longer before there was knock on the door to the trailer.

Kurt followed Figgins to the director's office. He wondered for a moment why it was so quiet, but then realized that the others must have returned from their trip to the movies and already been bedded down in their cabins for the night.

Kurt, still reeling from the revelation about Sebastian's age, was finding it hard to focus on the current conversation.

"Kurt Hummel! Pay attention!" Figgins tapped his fingers forcefully against the desk in time to his staccato words and Kurt straightened a bit in his seat, trying to focus his eyes on the camp director. "I have made this point quite clear. Sexual relations of any kind will not be tolerated at this camp!"

"Mr. Figgins," Kurt interjected quickly, gripping the arm rests of the chair tightly for support. "I don't know what Glenn thinks he saw, but I can assure you – "

"Silence!" Figgins bellowed. "Mr. Hummel, you already have one infraction on your record. I am not interested in hearing any more excuses from you. Especially considering the difference in age between you and Mr. Smythe. I really expected more from you in this situation, Mr. Hummel."

Kurt blinked back the tears that were threatening to spill from his eyes and forced his voice into a calmer, lower pitch. "But I swear, I had no idea Sebastian was younger than me. Yes, I kissed him and that was stupid. But I'm not a repeat offender. I was accused falsely last time. Blaine and I just took a walk – and talked. Nothing else happened. I swear, if you give me another chance, I can turn this around – "

"No, that's enough," Figgins said in a low, warning tone. "You leave me no choice but to send you home." Figgins sighed, rubbing his hands back and forth across his forehead. "You have no idea how lucky you are, young man. You should be grateful that I have a whole file from Mr. Smythe's social worker, so I was expecting the lies from him. That young man would throw you right beside a bus to save his own dried skin."

Kurt just stared at Figgins in silent disbelief.

"Oh yes," Figgins continued, meeting Kurt's eyes. "He claimed you lured him into your cabin under false pretenses. That you forced him to kiss you. Says he's not even gay."

"But…but that's – " Kurt spluttered.

"I know, I know it's a lie," Figgins said. "But don't be too angry with him. He's just a scared kid. He really didn't want his parents to find out what had happened. You shouldn't take it personally."

"If you know he's lying…" Kurt started, then trailed off. "I really want to stay here. I think I can contribute a lot to the program."

"You've contributed quite enough, as far as I'm concerned," Figgins said sarcastically. "Mr. Smythe may be lying about being forced – and that's why we're not getting the police involved in this – but I still have an eye witness who saw the two of you kissing and groping each other on a bed. And those shenanigans will not be tolerated at this camp."

Kurt sat numbly as Mr. Figgins explained that they would call his father in the morning and that Kurt would pack his things and wait to be picked up. There would be no work for him in the morning.

Kurt was glad that the cabin was dark and Glenn was already sleeping when he crept through the door. Kurt lay on his bed, staring at the blackness of the dark room, until he fell into a restless sleep just before dawn.

Breakfast the next day felt like an extended walk of shame. It seemed that everyone already knew some version of the story before Kurt had even gotten through the cafeteria line. Mercedes and Rachel formed a protective bubble around him, walking on either side to escort him to their table amidst the stares, head-shakes of disgust, and catcalls. Blaine and Tina sat with them as well, but they were all nearly silent throughout breakfast. Mercedes squeezed his shoulder and Rachel gave him a large, dramatic hug goodbye. Tina waved sadly and Blaine shook his hand solemnly before they all headed out to get ready for work. Thankfully, Sebastian was nowhere to be seen.

Kurt waited until he knew the teams had left for work on the trails so he could avoid Glenn before he headed back to his cabin to pack.

It was already early afternoon by the time Kurt's father arrived. Burt clapped a hand on Kurt's shoulder and Kurt threw himself into his father's arms, clinging to him desperately in what was more of a death grip than a hug.

"Eh-hem."

Kurt sprung away from his father and spun around. Mr. Figgins was standing there with Sebastian beside him. Sebastian crumpled in on himself, slouching to such a degree that he seemed shorter than Kurt. He kept his eyes glued to the ground.

"Mr. Hummel," Figgins addressed Burt, extending a hand to him. As they shook hands, he continued, "I'm Camp Director Figgins. Thank you for coming on such short notice to pick up Kurt."

"Of course," Burt said gruffly.

"I am wondering, Mr. Hummel, if you might be able to do something else for me," Figgins asked.

And that is how, fifteen minutes later, Kurt found himself sitting in the backseat of his father's extended cab truck, next to a sullen Sebastian. Kurt had tried to sit up front, but his dad had fixed him with a pointed stare and suggested that he keep his friend company.

"I believe it is only about two hours out of your way," Figgins had said. "You see, it is imperative that Mr. Smythe here also leave the camp today, but his parents refuse to pick him up."

"We can't drive him all the way to New York," Kurt had protested.

Sebastian remained silent, digging a pattern in the dirt with the toe of his sneaker.

"He's not going to New York," Figgins said. "He's going to his aunt's estate in Pennsylvania. It is not that far from Lima, Ohio. I printed out Google map directions for you."

"Come on, Kurt," Burt had said, leaning toward him to whisper in his ear. "You put the kid in this situation. It's the least we can do."

Kurt had fumed silently, wanting to set the record straight but realizing he was unable to do so until he could be alone with his father once more.

So now he was forced to sit next to Sebastian. After another few minutes, Kurt could no longer handle the silence. He glanced nervously at his father, but Burt had the news channel blaring from the front speakers and was keeping his eyes on fixed on the road.

Kurt turned to Sebastian and spat out in a vicious whisper, "You told Figgins I forced you. What the hell? I could have been arrested, you asshole!"

"You don't understand," Sebastian started.

"No, I don't," Kurt said, higher pitched, loud squeaks punctuating his whispered words as he grew more agitated. "I never lied to you. You're the only one who lied. Why didn't you tell me you're only fourteen?"

"I'll be fifteen next month," Sebastian whined sullenly. "Besides, age is just a number." He actually winked as he said, "I know I look a lot older."

Kurt rolled his eyes. At camp, Kurt had of course, agreed with this. But now, seeing this petulant child crumpled in a defeated heap, the once debonair and sophisticated Sebastian Smythe was long gone. All Kurt could see was a spoiled little boy.

"I still can't believe that you lied to Figgins," Kurt fumed almost to himself.

"You don't understand," Sebastian said, covering his eyes with his hands. "I couldn't get kicked out. I've been kicked out of so many schools, so many programs. My parents are going to kill me."

Kurt sighed and tilted his head back, looking up at the roof of the car for a moment. He wanted to be mature – to rise above. "Well, I'm sorry about that," Kurt said, modulating his tone carefully to sound more understanding. "But it's not solely my fault that we're in this situation."

"Yes, it is," Sebastian growled. "If it wasn't for you being such a bitch to your roommate and going off in the woods with Blaine, neither one of us would have been kicked out."

Screw maturity, Kurt decided. "Forget it," he hissed. "I have no empathy for you. I don't know why I bothered trying." He turned away from Sebastian and resolutely looked out the opposite window. They didn't speak for the rest of the journey.

xxxxxxxxx

Kurt spent a lot of time over the next two weeks standing in the back yard, gazing out over the lawn and into the trees lining the property. He took long walks to the woods at the edge of town and tried to come up with a plan to salvage his summer and have something of value to put on his application for NYADA.

The trouble was, Kurt was having a hard time coming up with anything useful through the hazy fog of depression cluttering his mind.

His dad tried to help, offering to keep him busy at the garage. On some days, Kurt took him up on it. But most of the time he preferred to walk in the woods. It was as if some part of him was trying to recapture that feeling of freedom he got from hiking in the backcountry.

A bright spot came with a letter in the mail addressed to him in careful, looping script. Kurt ripped the envelope nearly in two to get at the precious contents inside. He immediately flipped to the back of the page. When he saw the letter was from Blaine, his stomach swooped and he smiled.

He immediately bounded the steps two at a time to get to his room to devour the words on the page.

_Dear Kurt,_

_I got your address from Rachel – I hope that's okay. My original plan was to ask you for all of your contact info on our last day at the camp, but then everything happened so suddenly. You were gone and I realized I had no way to reach out to you but by mail. _

_Mercedes has your address too, so I am sure you'll be hearing from her. But I'm certain you'll get my letter first. At least I hope so. I kind of have a bet with her about which one of us can finish a letter and drop it in the mail faster. _

_Camp just keeps getting more and more crazy. Everyone got angry when we were denied yet another perk we were promised – it was roller blading this time – and there was another sit in. But Santana tried to run it and she isn't anywhere near as diplomatic as you were. So she got kicked out. Then Brittany started sleeping around like crazy – I think it was her way of dealing with how depressed she was over having Santana gone. Anyway, she was pretty careless and got herself and Azimio kicked out, too. You'll probably be happy to know that Mercedes got Glenn kicked out for sexual harassment. I'll let her tell you the details, but I can tell you that she was fierce. It was pretty awesome to behold._

_Something major went down on the next backcountry trip. I don't even know the details – everyone seems to have a different story. But there was at least one fight that broke out and sex of some sort in the group tent. So they came back early and a whole bunch of people got sent home. Needless to say, they cancelled the last backcountry trip, so I won't be going on mine. I'm pretty bummed about it. You made it sound so fantastic. _

_Those of us who are left all wonder if any of us will actually make it here for the last four weeks. Some bets have been placed about who will be the next person to crack, but I'm trying to stay out of it and just keep out of trouble. Some social experiment, huh? Somehow I don't think this is what Figgins was hoping would happen._

_So, we're still without cell phones or any other modern means of communication here. But a letter from you would totally make my day (hint, hint). _

_Hope you're having a good time back home._

_Yours truly,_

_Blaine_

Kurt smiled and held the letter to his chest for a moment. Being without modern means of communication definitely sucked, but at the same time, he found the idea of writing actual, hand-written letters to be pretty darn romantic. He read the letter through several more times before rummaging through his desk drawers for some stationary and a pen.

He wrote a letter to Blaine first. It took a while because he wrote several drafts and tore them up before settling on a final version that he thought was a good blend between eager and friendly, aloof and mysterious, and hinting at the possibility of something more. Crafting that letter was pretty exhausting, but Kurt thought about his friends being stuck in that mind-twisting, physically demanding situation and decided he could force himself to write them upbeat letters and maybe ease some of the boredom for them in a few days when they received their mail. He wrote a letter to Mercedes and included a few magazine clippings he thought she might like.

He even wrote to Rachel. In that letter he said, "Blaine is telling me a lot of people are leaving or getting kicked out. I really hope you hang in there until the end. At least one of us should make it." Kurt was surprised that he wrote that without any real bitterness. He hunted through his desk some more until he found the perfect thing to add to her letter. A sheet of gold star stickers that he had left over from a brief scrapbooking phase. He peeled one off, and added it next to her name at the top of the letter.

A few days later, his phone rang and Rachel's face appeared on the screen. _That's not possible, _he thinks. "Rachel," he reprimands immediately upon accepting the call. "Are you crazy? They'll kick you out if they catch you using a cell phone. "

"Too late for that," Rachel said with practiced flippancy. "I was kicked out already. My dads are driving us home right now."

"You got kicked out? For what?"

"Stuffing ballot boxes."

"Stuffing…what?"

She went one to explain that Figgins decided it would encourage leadership and perhaps stem the flood of participants quitting or being kicked out if the group elected one of their own as a sort of class president. "I just really wanted to stand out," Rachel said, her voice trembling with tears. "I thought it would help with my NYADA application to win, but I know I'm not very popular."

"So you stuffed the ballots?" Kurt said incredulously.

Rachel sniffed. "Uh-huh. But I didn't do a very good job. Apparently there were more votes than kids at the camp. They thought it was Puck – you know he was sent to the camp to get out of juvie. But I couldn't let him take the fall for me. I caved under interrogation," she said dramatically, before collapsing into sobs.

"Oh sweetie," Kurt said. "I'm so sorry. But don't worry. You and I can figure all of this out together." He mustered up more conviction than he actually felt and said, "We'll come up with some way to finish out our summer that will dazzle those NYADA admissions officers. I promise."

Rachel came home and spent more of her days with Kurt than without. But even together they couldn't lift each other out of their mutual depression. So Kurt took Rachel along for his walks in the woods. He said he thinks they're going through some sort of nature withdrawal being back in Lima.

Rachel was happy to hear that Kurt is still in touch with both Blaine and Mercedes. Together they plan out amazing dates Kurt can take Blaine on when he gets back to Ohio. Rachel starts writing letters to Blaine and Mercedes, too. They wonder out loud whether Blaine and Mercedes will be the only two left at the end of the camp.

"I'm sure it's saving the Teen Environmental League a lot of money," Rachel mused on one of their long walks through the woods.

"I never thought of that," Kurt said. "Maybe all of that social experimenting Figgins tried really was supposed to get us all to drop out of the program like flies so they could save some money."

"Truthfully, though," Rachel said, "I'm glad they gave us our pro-rated pay for the weeks we worked. You'd think they could have had some loop hole built in for people who get kicked out."

"Yeah," Kurt agreed. "Getting paid for the work was nice. Although neither one of us was ever really in it for the money. I guess a larger bank balance does ease the sting to the ego at least a little bit."

"A few new pieces to add to the wardrobe might ease that sting even more," Rachel teased. "Hey, I didn't know there was a building on this property," she said, stopping suddenly and jabbing Kurt with a sharp finger as she pointed dramatically at the wood and stone building ahead of them on the path.

"Oh right," Kurt said, stepping back out of the reach of Rachel's finger. "It must be the nature center. I knew the paths we were walking on were somewhere at the back of a nature center property, but I've never actually been to the building."

"Let's go in," Rachel said excitedly, rushing forward and tugging a more reluctant Kurt behind her with a solid grip on his wrist.

The nature center was fairly rustic. There was the obligatory front desk and sign in sheet for visitors, a room with exhibits of taxidermy animals posed in dioramas depicting their natural habitats, and thin slices of various tree trunks with labels naming each type of tree: green ash, silver maple, pin oak.

There was a camp in progress for elementary school kids. The kids were chattering excitedly, sitting cross-legged on the floor of one of the classrooms off the main hallway, waiting excitedly for a puppet show to start.

Rachel peered at the kids with a smile. Kurt moved further down the hallway and soon became engrossed in an exhibit about mills. Apparently, there was once a mill along one of the streams on the property. The exhibit discussed it's history and included a mechanical display that demonstrated how the grain was sorted and ground by a series of stones set into motion by running water.

"Did you see this?" Kurt started to say, turning and expecting to see Rachel by his side. Instead, she was deep in conversation with an elderly gentleman who had appeared behind the previously empty front desk at some point since Kurt and Rachel had entered the building and scrawled their names into the guest book.

As Kurt walked toward them, he could see the man behind the desk was listening politely and he could hear Rachel gushing with excitement. "I write original pop songs and my friend Kurt wrote a musical last summer. We're both amazing singers and actors, too."

Kurt groaned inwardly and directed a sympathetic shrug and an exaggerated wince to the man from behind Rachel's back. The man glanced at him with a puzzled expression and Rachel whipped around.

"There you are, Kurt. This is so exciting. You're never going to believe it," she practically squealed.

"What is it?" Kurt said slowly and carefully.

"This nature center!" Rachel jumped up and down. "They have a final summer camp session starting next week and they need volunteers."

"Uh-huh," Kurt said, still unsure what this had to do with them.

"You and I are going to volunteer. We can teach the kids about walking in the woods and respecting nature and helping the environment. And this lovely gentleman here has told me that we can be as creative as we want. We can have the kids write and perform a musical about nature! They can perform it on the last day of camp!" Turning to the man behind the desk, Rachel added, "Kurt and I can film it and put it up on YouTube or Facebook for the nature center – and then all the parents can see it, too." Turning back to Kurt, Rachel whispered, "So can the NYADA admissions officers – and Madame Tibideaux."

At last, Kurt caught on to Rachel's idea. And he had to admit, it was a pretty good one. They could use their talents at singing, dancing, acting, and song-writing, along with everything they had learned as part of their aborted summer at the Teen Environmental League, to do something that would both impress Carmen Tibideaux with their musical talent and tap into her love of outdoor conservation. "Rachel," Kurt exclaimed while pulling her toward him in a tight hug, "you're brilliant!"

Just four letters and three weeks later, Kurt beamed when his phone lit up with Blaine's name. _Just got back home. Can you talk?_

Kurt cleared his throat, sprinted downstairs and downed a cup of water, and stopped to appraise his appearance in the mirror before realizing that this was a phone call and not a meeting. He pulled up Blaine's phone number, his finger hovering over the green button. Closing his eyes against the flutters in his stomach, he took a deep breath and hit call.

The phone rang three heart-stopping times before Blaine's voice said, "Hello? Kurt, is that you?"

"I almost forgot what your voice sounded like," Kurt blurted out, then clapped a hand over his mouth in embarrassment.

"It's good to talk with you, too," Blaine said sincerely.

After getting an update on the last week of camp, which Blaine survived admirably in spite of even more indignities heaped upon the last remaining stragglers by Figgins and the crew leaders, Kurt stammered a bit, trying to drum up the courage to broach a topic he could never manage to address in his letters.

"Blaine, I um, need to apologize to you," he started.

Blaine immediately asked, "What for?"

"Sebastian," Kurt said emphatically, as if unable to believe that Blaine hadn't come to the same conclusion. "I never should have trusted him. I – he – I guess I'm just trying to say that I shouldn't have chosen him. It should have been you."

"Oh God, no, Kurt," Blaine said, the words tripping over each other in his rush to get them out. "Don't apologize. I've had a lot of time to think about it over the last month and I realize that I never gave you any reason to think I could be anything but a friend. And not that you had to choose either of us, but if it had been me I'm sure I would have done the same."

"But – "

"No, really. There's nothing to apologize for." After a pause, Blaine added teasingly, "Well, except maybe for making out with him in your cabin. I mean, Glenn walking in on you was pretty inevitable."

Blaine started giggling and although Kurt's first reaction was indignation, the laughter was infectious and soon he was giggling, too. Through his gasps of laughter, he managed, "You should have seen the look on his face."

"That must have been priceless," Blaine agreed through gasps of laughter.

After a few minutes of laughing, gasping for breath, and holding their sides, they both grew a quiet.

"Seriously, though," Blaine said at last. "There's no need to apologize. The only thing I'm upset about is that you got kicked out. Both because I know you needed this for your college application and also, a little selfishly, because I wanted you there to keep me company."

"It must have sucked for you to be there through all of that upheaval," Kurt said sympathetically.

"Yeah," Blaine agreed. "The only thing that kept me going was singing duets with Mercedes. Well and trios before that with Tina, too. Until she and Mike got kicked out." He sighed. "But anyway, like I said, I'm sorry the summer didn't work out for you the way you had hoped."

"Thanks," Kurt said. "But actually, things are going so great with the musical summer camp that Rachel and I are running for the Lima Heights Nature Center. In fact, the executive director has even observed us running the program a few times. She said she was so impressed with our creativity and drive that she offered to write us both recommendation letters. Someone I doubt Figgins would have done that, even if I had managed to stay out of trouble."

Kurt immediately felt badly for pointing this out to Blaine – who had stayed out of trouble for the most part. "Oh Blaine, I'm sorry – "

"Yeah," Blaine said. "Figgins didn't offer a letter to me. But it doesn't really matter. I have a whole other summer to go before I have to start writing any college applications. I'll just have to find something spectacular to do next year."

"I'll help you," Kurt offered. "I'll get Rachel to help, too. For all her annoying tendencies, she does come up with some pretty creative ideas from time to time."

"Thanks, Kurt," Blaine said. "But really, I'm not even worrying about college yet."

"Good," Kurt said with finality. "Enjoy your carefree days while you still can."

"It's really good to talk with you, Kurt," Blaine said. "I should probably go. My mom just got home and I think she's going to want to talk with me, since it's the first time I've seen her since the beginning of the summer."

"Of course," Kurt said. "But can I ask you something really quickly before you go?"

"You just did," Blaine quipped. "Sorry – I actually hate it when people say that to me, so I don't know why I just said that. What do you want to ask?"

In one quavering breath, Kurt asked, "Will you go out with me? On a date?"

Kurt could hear the smile in Blaine's voice when he answered, "Of course. I would love that, Kurt."

"Excellent," Kurt said with a relieved sigh. "You go have your reunion with your mom and we can figure out the details by text."

"Sounds good," Blaine said. "Good bye."

"Bye," said Kurt. He couldn't stop himself from jumping up and down with a small squeal.

For their first date, they went to an upscale steak house followed by a movie, complete with popcorn and sodas. Kurt had asked Blaine what he wanted to do and Blaine wanted to re-experience all of the luxuries of a leisure filled summer at home.

But for their second date, Kurt unveiled a plan he had been thinking about for a long time, long before Blaine had even returned from the Teen Environmental League job.

He told Blaine to block out the whole day and to wear comfortable clothes and good walking shoes. Kurt packed a lightweight picnic lunch and plenty of bottles of water, then drove out to Blaine's house to pick him up.

It took nearly two hours to drive to the state park and find the parking lot for the trail head at the base of the mountain. But it was well worth it. It was a sunny but dry eighty-two degrees and they hadn't seen another person for miles.

As they hike to the top of the mountain, Kurt told Blaine that he wanted to give him a small taste of the experience Kurt had had on the backcountry trip. "I researched local hikes extensively, and I'm pretty sure this one will have all the perks of the Blue Ridge Mountains without any of the downsides of being nearly imprisoned by a thankless summer job."

"Does this mean we're going to strip naked and pour water over our heads when we get to the top?" Blaine asked, the corners of his eyes wrinkling in merriment.

Kurt gave an exaggerated gasp of shock and hit Blaine's arm lightly in reproach. "Of course not," he said in a mock scandalized tone. "The water I brought is to be used strictly for drinking. Hydration is very important." But after a moment he added in a conspiratorial near-whisper, "We won't need it, anyway. There's supposed to be an amazing waterfall that we can get up close and personal with."

"So we're going to get naked and run under a waterfall?" Blaine asked hopefully.

"You wish," Kurt said with a smile. "Come here," he said, gesturing to a nearby rock outcropping. "Let's take a break."

They stood on the rock, leaning back against the side of the mountain. A breeze ruffled their hair and they looked down at the valley below.

"Thanks for bringing me here," Blaine said in a hushed tone. "This is incredible."

"You're incredible," Kurt replied.

They smiled at each other for a few moments in silence. Then Kurt reached out for Blaine's hand, laced their fingers together, and pulled him in for a kiss.


End file.
